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Aiobrar (taking characters)

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Prince Nizar-Amir finished his water and stood thanking the Holtian king for a most pleasant dinner. To his son, he joked, "Careful, now. Their pride is sagging." With a chuckle, The Shirazi prince turned to the boy who had been sitting on his lap and lifted him onto his hip, arm around him. "I trust you will excuse me for a moment; it is far past bedtime for my brother." He left the party to tuck Hashim in. He had promised the boy's mother he would be well looked after, and intended to keep his word.

As he sung the boy a lullaby from the homeland, a woman came by with a glass of milk. A servant of the castle. Nizar-Amir thanked her, and made sure Hashim drank all off it, even when he claimed it tasted strange. The prince thought of the two half-brothers, Dominik and Erik; there was clearly some tension between the two. It was clear, despite his charming smiles and witty remarks, that he did not like the bastard son.

With Hashim asleep, the Shirazi prince donned a thick fur coat along with his brothers and joined Dominik, Erik, and the cousins in the foyer. Nizar-Amir had no idea what was planned, but he was excited to view the city, perhaps taste the local foods and fruits. He was unsure of what could grow in such an iceland.
 
A few guards led the way to the stables where a single carriage awaited the princes. Dominik glanced at the company behind him, the prince's brothers all eyeing the single carriage. "Prince Nizar-Amir, it seems only one carriage has been prepped. Shall we ride horses, or make your brothers bare the icy wind?" The Holtian prince's cousins smirked as they each took up a horse. The rest of Dominik's crew were already in the city with a few more guards, getting the night ready, leaving just enough spaces for the brothers.

Dominik dropped his smirk with a light chuckle. "Just kidding. I'll be taking a horse." He glanced at the prince. "Care to join me on the path?" The Holtian prince did not wait for an answer before mounting his grand steed. The horse's saddle was magnificent, adorned with furs that kept the rider and horse warm. A steed similar to the prince's stood nearby. It was the princess's horse, the mane long with feathers adorned in the locks that had been braided.

Two guards led the way down into the city from the front as two followed in the rear. Dominik rode just behind the guards next to Prince Nizar. Erik and the cousins were next with the carriage behind them. Torches lighted the path into the city despite the light rain of snow. "How are you enjoying the trek?" The blond prince asked the darker haired prince.


Zazz Zazz
 
The prince, too, was cold, but he chose to ride the horse and let his elder brothers have the comfort of the carriage. Not all of them had come, instead choosing to rest after their hearty meal. He mounted the pure white horse with ease despite the snow and rode with the blonde prince behind the two guards. The saddle indeed kept his legs warm. There was snow for as far as he could see, but soon, lit torches and small buildings could be seen. Nizar-Amir shivered once and pulled his coat up to his chin.

"It is beautiful, even though it is colder than we are used to. Tell me, Prince, is your whole nation like this? All of the year?" Sure, his nation was a desert and was hot all day, but it grew hotter in the summer and cooler at night. It was hard to imagine a place where people enjoyed living in constant cold. When would one swim?
 
Dominik chuckled lightly, "Is that what everyone in Shiraz believes, that our nation is snow all year round?" The prince supposed that it was because they hardly had merchants that made their way up to their land, only once in a while and typically during the winter months. "Ironedge, perhaps you could say so. Holt, no. We do experience the rest of the seasons. It is far cooler than the other nations, of course. But, the snow does stop."

As the city grew closer, Dominik changed the subject from the land to the wedding. "There are a few traditions that you will be required to participate in the event of marriage to my sister. I have been put in charge of making sure you are aware of these traditions." The blonde pulled the reigns of his horse just slightly, forcing it to slow it's speed. "First, tomorrow morning, just before dawn, you will retrieve an ancestral sword from my family's grave. You will carry this sword, along with a ceremonial hammer, at the ceremony. Before the ceremony, you will undergo a bath in the bathhouse with your male relatives with heated stones and steam. These traditions are symbolism for the shedding of your bachelor status and purifying yourself for the wedding."

One of the cousins piped in, "Are the men of Shiraz pure before marriage like their women are supposed to be?"

Dominik glanced back at the cousin, giving a warning glance not to question the prince further on the subject. He did not want the virginity subject to come up and be questioned about his sister's virginity status. He continued to tell the prince about the ceremony, "Swords and rings are exchanged, so I do hope you brought an ancestral sword." He glanced at the prince's head scarf. "And...about the scarf, lose it for the wedding. Both of you will be receiving crowns."

Zazz Zazz
 
Nizar-Amir listened to the blonde prince as he spoke regarding the wedding ceremonies. He had, indeed, brought an ancestral sword, as per the letters between the two monarchs. It was an honour to carry it, as it belonged to the first of a long line of sultans. The scabbard was plated with gold, words carved in the elegant, alluring Shirazi tongue. The sword itself, a scimitar, had been well taken care of, the blade always kept sharp.

Passing over the question of purity, he nodded. "Yes, I have the honour of carrying our ancestral sword." Glancing over at Dominik, he wondered what their swords were like. And as for purity... well, most men were not, he thought to himself with the slightest of blushes.

"Is the princess... eager for our marriage?"

NightmareFox NightmareFox
 
"Eager for the marriage?" Dominik chuckled lightly, "I wouldn't say eager." Cecilie had been very adamant that she would follow her father's wishes, but she wasn't thrilled about the way everything had turned out. The princess had always wanted to be courted. She was unhappy that she would not get to the flirty games that men and women played during courtship. Dominik carefully chose his words. "I would say she is eager to get through the wedding. She has hated the rushed fussing over details." As the path grew brighter as the ventured into the city, Dominik turned towards the prince. "Are you eager?"

Zazz Zazz
 
The Shirazi prince thought on that. The women of his palace were excited to welcome this exotic bride whom they had never even seen. Nizar was curious to see what Princess Cecilie looked like, to hear her voice. "I am... nervous," he admitted. "I do not know what the princess is like. I hope that she will feel at home, in Shiraz. I hope that this marriage can blossom into more than simply a... political relationship."

The dark-haired prince looked about the city, curious. There were no outdoor stalls, like Shiraz; everything was protected under the cover of stone and fire. He missed the open markets of Al Khaled, missed the aroma of fresh fruit and kebabs. Surely there was something here to catch his interest.

NightmareFox NightmareFox
 
As they passed one of the shops, the aroma of meat filled the air. Inside, the owner had meats hanging from the ceiling from various animals that had been smoked. His wife carried a bowl of berries to the shop next door were she made jams and jellies out of the fruits. Dominik slowed his horse to a halt when they arrived in front of a building that had music pounding through the doors. "Here we are." The prince grinned as a few of his friends came out of the bar, goblets in hand.

"It's about time you came out. We were going to start the party without you!" From the way his words slurred, it sounded like one of them had at least already started to party. "Which one is the groom-to-be?" He asked as the brothers left the carriage.

Dominik gestured towards the prince as he brought his horse to a trough. His friends greeted the Shirazi prince, handing him a goblet filled with ale. The blonde prince stole the goblet away. "Not the cheap stuff." He shook his head and poured the ale out in the snow. "Let us go in and order something more suited for a prince."

As the door opened, music invited the group in. There was a bar on the right side with a band playing on the left. A group of men and women drunk on ale danced in the center. The Holtian prince bypassed the commoners and held out a bag of coins to a guard by a door at the back of the bar. With a tilt of his head, the guard opened the door to a private bar where the higher nobles sat around tables drinking, being served by women that bared it all in a fur coat.

"Welcome to your Stag." Dominik grinned as he stepped further into the room. "I do hope you all enjoy yourselves tonight."

Zazz Zazz
 
The Bulovian princess did, indeed, look up from the water to see the prince galloping across the sand. "Not quite as sturdy as our own stock, but definitely pretty to look at," she said of Jahden's horse to Rowan before the prince was near enough to hear. The princess dipped her head under the water once more, holding her breath while the horse and its rider came to a stop. Behind him, she had seen a number of servants running forth with a whole ensemble of food and drink. It was nonsense. Either he was trying very hard to win her favour, or he was simply a pompous bastard who enjoyed the attention. Well, either could work in her favour, she supposed. A blind man is a blind man, after all.

The princess's head emerged with a charming smile as she pushed back her long hair. "Greetings, my prince. I see you have already seen to your horse," she said pointedly, glancing at the reigns in her guard's hand. He did not look pleased. With a pleasant smile, she looked up at Jahden from where she crouched beneath the water. "Care to join me? Or is a finely dressed prince like yourself afraid of getting wet in front of his betrothed?" Kassandra teased, a smirk in her eye.

SilverFlight SilverFlight Slav Slav
 
While King Thaddeus may have understood Nizar's preference for remaining sober that evening, Dominik, clearly, did not. The Shirazi prince held back a sigh as he dismounted, while his brothers looked perfectly at ease. They followed the blonde prince inside. The music was strange, but it was not unpleasant. Nizar greeted anyone who looked at him with a shy smile, until they were let into... he didn't even know what. "Stag," he repeated, unfamiliar with the word. Nizar-Amir stared ahead in shock at what Dominik had brought him to. "What... What is a stag?" His brother clapped him on the back and grinned, heading into the room with the others. The Shirazi men were no strangers to naked women, but Nizar... The prince swallowed and glanced at the bastard son, entirely uncomfortable.
 
Erik stuck his hands into his pockets as he shrugged at the prince. He was just as much stuck in the situation as the prince was. "I bet you are wishing that you had declined his invitation out." The younger son sighed as he stepped further into the room. "The women usually stick to the table area. The bar is the safest place to sit. But considering what tonight is, I don't think anywhere will be safe for you." The bastard went to the bar and ordered a white liquid in a small wooden cup.

Meanwhile, Dominik and his friends gathered a table with the brothers. "Do you have such places like this in Shiraz?" The blonde prince asked one of the brothers as he accepted a goblet of clear liquor from one of the ladies, his hand brushing her thigh as she took a seat on his lap. Dominik was regular enough that he knew the ladies names and they knew what he enjoyed.

Zazz Zazz
 
Prince Nizar-Amir quietly followed Erik, deciding to be far away from his brothers. He wanted to see the whole room, and so he looked, but was far too shy to be in such a place and so often lowered his gaze. Except, that did not help, so the ceiling it was. By the end of the night he would know every crevice. Of the stone, of course. Nizar sat next to Erik and said to the man behind the bar, "I will have... what he is having." He gestured to Erik's white drink without actually looking at it. Once seated, his drink was brought around and Nizar took a sip, only to stop and look at it in puzzlement. "What is this, milk?" After a moment, he chuckled and set down the cup. "Ah. I like you, ah.. Lord Erik? I do apologize, your titles are foreign to me and this is not my first language."

At the table, the half brothers eyed the women openly, gladly taking goblets and tankards of alcohol. One brother answered, "In the palace, there is entertainment room. Beautiful women. They dancing... in your bed," he told Dominik and the cousins, clanking tankards with one of them.
 
With a tilt of his cup, Erik downed the milk. "I do not have a title. Aside from bastard son." He tapped the bar top lightly as he gazed over his shoulder. "It appears that your brothers are getting along just fine with mine." Erik returned his gaze to Nizar, "Why do you not join them?"

The men exchanged stories about women in bed. Dominik asked the brother closer to him, "And does your prince...dance...with these women?" The Holtian prince wondered if his sister and her betrothed were equal in the lack of purity or if the princess would have more experience. Nizar-Amir had skipped over his cousin's questions and it made the prince curious.

Zazz Zazz
 
Afsaan, a man likely in his early forties, leaned in to converse with the blonde prince. "No. At least, our brother does not go when anyone else is around to tell the tale. If he does, he does so very quietly." The older brother raised his glass to his prince and drank, saying, "Either he is pure as a white mare, or filthy as a good thief." Setting down his empty goblet, he asked a woman for another, light brown eyes following her curves. "Your king has only one wife, yes? Why does he not take more?"

Back at the bar, Nizar-Amir clapped a gentle hand to the boy's shoulder. "Because you are far better company. Besides, I have been stuck in a carriage with these brothers of mine for what seemed like all of eternity." The prince shook his head. "Tell me. What is your princess like? What does she look like, what does she eat, does she like this cold?"
 
Dominik glanced back at the prince, curiosity still coursing through his veins. "Yes, if he is not pure, he does well to make it seem so." The woman in Dominik's lap leaned down and whispered into his ear before she slipped off to the bar to fetch more ale for the prince. "It is not our people's way. You have one wife and should be with the woman until her death. However, mistresses, are permitted if one such takes one up. But never should you marry another until your wife is dead."


The bastard son couldn't help but chuckle. "You have many questions about my sister." Erik knew that his sister would hate it if he told the prince too much about her before she even got to meet him so he made the gesture of zipping his lips. "I am sorry, but I do not wish the wrath of my sister. I will say, she is a stubborn one and you will have your hands full."

Zazz Zazz
 
"I don't know," said Raif, one of the younger men. "He slips away at night, sometimes. Out of the palace."

"He is innocent as a lamb," said Khalil, chuckling over his tankard across the table. "Look; he cannot look at the women without his cheeks turning into roses." The me all shared a laugh at the prince's expense, who was very keen on keeping his eyes past the bar.


Prince Nizar-Amir sighed and drank his milk, wiping away any mustache. "You give me nothing, my friend. Tell me this, at least. Does she smile often?" The prince thought of his sister, and Dominik. "Do you think Ameerah will learn to be happy, here?"
 
"She smiles." Erik answered with a small chuckle, "If she isn't pouting. The men say it's cute." He shrugged, not having an opinion on it. Thinking about the dark haired princess, Erik's cheeks slightly reddened. "Your sister is beautiful. If she enjoys freedom, she will likely learn to be happy." The bastard son was not sure if she would like Dominik, though, and vice versa.

As the night became colder and the men grew drunk, Erik and Nizar-Amir helped them to their horses and carriage. Dominik was one of the few that despite being drunk could still mount his steed himself. They helped the cousins onto their horses and bid the friends goodnight. The blonde prince glanced between his brother and the Shirazi prince. "You two don't look like you drank a sip, yet you hovered at the bar all night."
Zazz Zazz
 
"We had plenty of sips," the Shirazi prince chuckled, "just not of what you men were drinking. Good thing, or none of us would get home." With his brothers back in the safety of the carriage, Nizar mounted his white horse and led the way back with ease, the guards at his heels. He had a knack for navigation. Once he had been to a place, he could find it again blind. The prince was unaccustomed to being led, much to the dismay of the Holtian guards who were trying very hard to keep pace with the erratic, free-spirited horseman.

Back at the castle, once the men were all tucked into their beds, Nizar took to roaming the castle. He wanted to find the elusive princess, at least hear her voice if he could not see her. It was tradition in Shiraz, as well, not to see one's bride the night before the wedding, but shenanigans were always in play. Besides, he had no idea what this princess looked like. He would not even recognize her, would he? What if she got cold feet and swapped herself with another woman by morning? What if...

Nizar's thoughts came to a halt along with his feet at the sound of female voices. Avoiding the guards, he very quietly followed the voices until he was in a small hallway, sitting with his ear pressed to a small air vent attached to the Holtian princess's room. He could not see much through the three little bars, but he could hear.
 
The married ladies were gathered around the princess, each had one of her limbs, massaging her muscles. Her mother sat across from the bed, still shaking her head at the princess. "I cannot believe you cut your hair before your wedding." The queen had underestimated her daughter's stubbornness around the wedding. "I beseech you to not make other alterations to your physical appearance." During her own wedding, the queen had long locks that nearly touched the floor. Her family had forced her to keep her hair long even when its length became burdensome. Now, in her older age, the queen's brilliant blonde had dimmed slightly and was kept neatly trimmed just beneath her shoulders.

"I think it's an interesting choice." Cecilie's aunt rubbed a purple cream into the princess's feet. The women passed the cream around, smoothing the princess's skin against Cecilie's complaints. "At least this cream dries easily. I've been told in Shiraz they use oil. You'll be walking around all day feeling 'slimy' as you call it."

Cecilie snorted, "You think I'm letting a single one of them put that stuff on me? The only reason I've allowed you lot to do this to me is that I will be leaving."


Outside of the room, Cecilie's ladies were sneaking down the hall from their rooms to crash the 'party' when they spotted the a male knelt down by the vent. "Girls, I believe we need to call the guards. It appears we have a lurker on our hands." Magda looked the prince over with a playful smirk. One of the ladies rolled her eyes, pushing past the blonde.

"Prince Nizar-Amir, I presume." Safiya bowed her head slightly in respect. A small smile grew as she placed her hand on his forearm. "Curiosity killed the cat. And trust me, you do not want to deal with curiosity's killing." The darker haired lady led the prince away from the room.

Zazz Zazz
 
The Shirazi prince was only just starting to figure out which voice belonged to his betrothed when a woman spoke behind him. He winced at being caught and stood, turning to face the five young women. Colour rose to his cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. One of them looked very different from the others, almost as if she was from his nation rather than this winterland. This one spoke kindly, leading him away from the room, and whom he followed gratefully. He did not feel particularly keen on dealing with foreign guards for a mere wisp of his betrothed's voice.

"My apologies, I... Indeed, I was curious." The prince let the woman lead the way. "May I know the name of my savior?" He wanted to ask about the princess; clearly this woman knew her closely. But instead he bit his lip in silence, keeping his curiosity in check. Erik had already warned him of the princess's stubborn wrath.
 
The dark haired lady smiled softly, "Safiya." It appeared the ladies' plan had been foiled. The guards had noted the laughter and the other girls came running past her. Picking up the edges of her dress, Safiya told the prince to follow as she ran after the ladies. The echoes of their laughter traveled down the halls as they sprinted through the castle until they were breathless.
 
"Safiya," he repeated. It was, indeed, a name from closer to home. "A beautiful name." Just then, the prince glanced over his shoulder at the sound of laughter and running footfalls. The remaining four ladies ran past them, and he was promptly told to follow as the fifth ran after them. After another glance back at the guards chasing them, the prince did't hesitate to join them, running away from the pre-marital chamber. His deep giggles mixed in with theirs as they echoed down the stone halls. One nearly tripped over a loose bit of skirts but Nizar-Amir caught her, righting her and continuing on.

Finally, they stopped to catch their breath. The prince was flushed with excitement, grinning. "It seems we all were caught in the same act," he commented. With a sniff, the Shirazi prince was promptly distracted by the smell of food wafting their way. "Are we near the kitchens?" He followed the scent like a dog in a trance - a well-dressed, well-mannered dog in a trance - until he came upon a partially open door. His stomach growled loudly.
 
Safiya followed the prince as the other ladies began to make their way back to their rooms. The dark haired lady stopped in the doorway, just behind the prince. "They are preparing the feast for tomorrow night." One of the elderly women in the kitchen began to tell them to leave in the Holtian language, shooing them away with a rag. Safiya apologized as she grabbed a few crab apples behind her back. "We should let them be." The lady winked as she backed out of the kitchen.
 
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Prince Nizar-Amir retreated like a sad puppy, raising his hands in surrender to the Holtian woman clearly shooing them with her rag. He really wanted to try the pastries that were oozing red goop out of their sides. After the whole night of not drinking with Erik, the prince was hungry as a wildcat. He pointed hopefully at one of the pastries but promptly had his wrist smacked away by the rag. "Sorry, sorry," he said quickly in his native tongue and backed out after Safiya. The door was promptly shut in his face. The prince's shoulders slumped and he pouted cutely. His stomach, once again, rumbled.
 
Safiya chuckled lightly before she she unveiled the fruit she had taken from the kitchen. "It's not a pastry but it is better than nothing if you are hungry." The lady handed over the handful to the prince. "There will be plenty food tomorrow to ease the sorrows of your stomach." Safiya watched the prince gleefully accept the fruit. During her travel to Shiraz, she hadn't made it out to the Prince's home city, but she had heard about him from the whispers of young women who swooned over him while they did their chores around the library. "Excuse me, but I believe I should be getting back to my chambers. Do you know your way back?"
 
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