between the shadows and the soul - erebor, diplomats

[Scorch]

WATCH THE FLAMES CLIMB HIGH INTO THE NIGHT

”Well said. We’re all mutts of the queens and kings of old.” Scorch eyes Straia with a squint and a smirk, toying with the ideas she has of the Chamber dictator. She speaks fluidly, neither here nor there. Scorch wonders if perhaps both their tongues are silver; one of silver water, and the other a silver blade. Take that as you will.

Elegantly late, Nayl sidles into the conversation. One might think that such a small body could not affect the mood which shimmers imperceptibly around the horses; yet suddenly, it seems as though the Jungle is on the defensive, sisters rising from the earth like guardians. This, however, is the contrary of reality. Scorch has come out of necessity and courtesy, as has Sunday. And little Nayl is far from intimidating, as long as you do not meet her gaze; she simply comes to learn and observe.

Sunday picks up the thread of conversation as Scorch inclines her head towards her faux-niece, though it quickly finds its way to the Khaleesi once more. Instead of jumping in, the baroque politely allows the finer – physically, that is – queen to say her part. Her eyes, tattoos, and nostrils flare suddenly at the mention of Kagerou; she lights up against the emerald backdrop of her home. With a slight show of emotion and sorrowful enthusiasm, she says:

”I knew Kagerou very well; you could say she was my best friend, all those years ago.” A nostalgic smile tips the corners of her charred lips. It remains stubbornly throughout her speech, the memory of her leopard friend as fresh as a bleeding wound. ”She ruled after Echion, who ruled after Tantalize. After Kagerou came Quark, Brunhild, and now myself. There are a few legends on the list; Prague and Grim Reaper among the few. But even I admit that names are boring. I won’t bore you with more.” Like the last rays of the sun, her smile grows before disappearing entirely. Names won’t bring her back, Scorch. Nothing will.

Erebor comments on the honour of having roots deeply laced in the Jungle’s soil. Scorch nods her head in return, meeting his gaze firmly, though she says no more on the subject. Rhy may have the right to shock her when things get out of hand, but even a lightning bolt couldn’t stop Scorch from mourning the loss of Kagerou.

Straightening, she addresses the two Chamberlings. ”If you’d like to converse with the sisters, please, come in. Otherwise, I find this meeting quite finished.” Her statement is brusque, but she figures that Straia will only relate to the bluntness, not retaliate. Scorch dips her head low to her equal, and turns to leave. Impulsively, she twists her head and says the following:

”If you ever find yourself in trouble...” Her eyes meet Straia’s, an unspoken offer and understanding within their depths. Slowly, she dips her head, comfortable in the knowledge that although silent, she has extended a branch of the Jungle towards the Chamber should there come a day they need the Sisterhood.

And with that, she leaves.

Scorch

Khaleesi of the Amazon Jungle

I figured we covered all the bases