♖Legatio Mortis | Historical ♖
by Istiana Komenenos
“Leocadus again? What is your fascination with him?”
An amicable smile littered her lips. “No fascination Emperor, he may be a firebrand when abed and not simply for his flaming sword, yet that does not have any impact on why I want him there. I am simply playing a silent game. He is well known, his battle prowess is almost legendary amongst the Dhals. And the Meks respect him. Bringing him to stand behind me at the delegation table, sways things a little further into my territory.”
Istiana held a powerful reputation of her own, yet they would not fully respect her word there. The kind that required a man’s presence, while that plagued her patience, she would rather play along and do what was needed. Not that she had fully explained everything she intended to him. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
“You should be staying here with me, be my bed mate. Let me show you what a firebrand I can be” The Emperor crooned at her, lifting her hand to lay a sloppy kiss upon the back of it.
“My use to you would be sorely limited in your bed. Which is why I stick to being one of the Frumentarri. Such as whisks me away now.” This was not the answer he wanted, yet she was certain it was better than again stating that she would not do such a thing to his wives, and concubines. Whom she had overheard discussing how little of a ‘firebrand’ the Emperor was.
~~~~~
A long table was laid out in the courtyard, many chairs spanned the sides of it, food spread along the center, with numerous jugs of wine and mead lining it too. Istiana’s seat was at the head of the table, the mediator of this gathering, to get warring factions to speak to one another, form an alliance, under the control of the Empire.
The men in their desert garb bickered across the table, throwing insults at one another, while Istiana listened to them speak in their native tongue, little did they know, this was one of the many languages she spoke. This little tantrum being thrown was for the sake of getting it out in the air, before the negotiations could truly take place.
It was terrible to say, but Istiana was bored. The posturing and puffing of the others around the table, reminding her of birds that resided in Theonika, who would puff up their feathers and strut around when the mating season came around.
She had retained the services of a couple of local girls, to help keep the libations flowing, it was much easier to direct men when they loosened up due to drink. Her eyes caught the touch that was both inappropriate and unwanted of one of the delegates to one of the girls she’d paid for assistance. The movement was swift, the dagger drawn from between the slit in her dress, from her thigh and so deeply embedded in the man’s hand, it went all the way through to the table.
“I warned you all, at the beginning of these talks, that the girls were not to be molested. They are not here for entertainment.” The tone of her voice was low, deadly. From behind her, she heard the shuffling sounds of the Imperial men becoming prepared should this break out into something bigger, they were her contingent, her protection. A menacing growl also sounded from behind her and it didn’t take much for her to know just who that was. With a wrench, she pulled the dagger free. “I assume I have made the point more… salient gentlemen.” Murmurs of agreement came from around the table and when she leaned back, Istiana was acutely aware that Marc was closer than he had been before.
For hours, the talks continued, with Istiana leading the conversation, leading them like pack mules to water, to doing things exactly as she wanted them to, it was why she was opted into these talks, she never came away without the wanted agreement. The food upon the table was devoured as if a plague of locusts had been beset upon it, flagon upon flagon and cask upon cask of wine had been swallowed.
Fortunately, Istiana had had the foresight to set some of the food and wine aside, so that the men that Marcus had brought along with him, would also be sufficiently satiated. And compensated for a day of standing around and looking menacing.
By the time dusk began to fall, all attendees of the delegation were sufficiently imbibed and at long last agreeing to the terms.
Yet more food and drink were supplied, now to help them celebrate.
~~~~~
What followed was more akin to bacchanal than simply a celebration. As Istiana stood near a stone archway that looked upon the courtyard from the gardens, a goblet of wine in her hand, ‘admiring’ her good works. A smile formed on her lips as she felt a finger drag along the exposed area of her back, between the skirt waist and the top. She would know that touch anywhere. She had also been wondering where he had snuck off too.
“Once again, the great Istiana achieves the impossible.” A deep voice came from behind her.
“For a month or two, perhaps. They’ll be back to wanting each other dead sooner rather than later.” She admitted. No one would hear her above the troubadours playing lively music or the sound of the cavorting going on.
“Then why all this trouble?” Marcus asked. Subtleties of politics were a strange thing to grasp.
“For when they do, the Empire now has all it needs to swoop in and make vassal states of them. They agreed to it. It was part of the peace terms.” There was a smugness about her, the Emperor had wanted them, and she had gotten them for him.
His hand came into view by her side. “Come dance with me.”
“I shouldn’t.” Oh how she wanted to take his hand, slip away into the night, the tone in her voice implied as much. So when the offered hand pressed into her stomach and pulled her back, whisking her away into the growing darkness of the evening in the garden. She was not surprised, he seemed to know her better than she did herself.
They were still close enough to hear the music from within, yet far enough away from prying eyes. Here, under the rising moon, they danced, hand in hand, spinning, twirling. Teasing. Lingering touches that spoke of a longing, a desire. At the crescendo of the song, Marcus’ hand wrapped around the back of her thigh, with a swiftness his size would make it seem impossible. With her leg in his hand, he lifted her, spinning her around with him, before the music died down. Or perhaps they were so closed into their own little world that they no longer heard anything else.
Quick breaths and soft smiles came from both. Then Istiana kissed him, her strength, her resistance all gone as she felt his strong form pressed into her. It was not the soft kiss of lovers reunited, it was intense, needy and reaching the fever pitch between that always simmered just below the surface. He took her down to the ground, laying her beneath him before he surged forward, starting to leave a wolf welt against her neck as she gave herself over to him. Hands hastily clawed at one another.
Right up until the moment screams began to echo in the air, leeching all amorousness from them both. As quickly as they had fallen on one another, they were just as quickly getting up. An orange haze started above the wall into the courtyard and smoke was starting to billow down to them. They made for the archway that had aided their escape.
Within the walls of the courtyard, faction was set upon faction, killing one another right there before them. Istiana’s face turned to stone as she palmed the dagger from her belt. “Take them all. Leave none alive.” She said to Marcus, as he gave the signal to his men who had been remaining in a holding pattern until the order came.
As the legion men engaged, it was only a matter of time before it was done. This was quicker than anticipated, though in some ways, it gave the Imperial Army the justification to go and take what would be theirs anyway.
By the end of it all, her own dagger dripped with blood, spatterings of it on her face, warm yet cooling rapidly.
“Well. That was not the end of peace terms I was expecting…. More wine, anyone? Drink your fill. You all earned it.”
-END-
by Istiana Komenenos
“Leocadus again? What is your fascination with him?”
An amicable smile littered her lips. “No fascination Emperor, he may be a firebrand when abed and not simply for his flaming sword, yet that does not have any impact on why I want him there. I am simply playing a silent game. He is well known, his battle prowess is almost legendary amongst the Dhals. And the Meks respect him. Bringing him to stand behind me at the delegation table, sways things a little further into my territory.”
Istiana held a powerful reputation of her own, yet they would not fully respect her word there. The kind that required a man’s presence, while that plagued her patience, she would rather play along and do what was needed. Not that she had fully explained everything she intended to him. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.
“You should be staying here with me, be my bed mate. Let me show you what a firebrand I can be” The Emperor crooned at her, lifting her hand to lay a sloppy kiss upon the back of it.
“My use to you would be sorely limited in your bed. Which is why I stick to being one of the Frumentarri. Such as whisks me away now.” This was not the answer he wanted, yet she was certain it was better than again stating that she would not do such a thing to his wives, and concubines. Whom she had overheard discussing how little of a ‘firebrand’ the Emperor was.
~~~~~
A long table was laid out in the courtyard, many chairs spanned the sides of it, food spread along the center, with numerous jugs of wine and mead lining it too. Istiana’s seat was at the head of the table, the mediator of this gathering, to get warring factions to speak to one another, form an alliance, under the control of the Empire.
The men in their desert garb bickered across the table, throwing insults at one another, while Istiana listened to them speak in their native tongue, little did they know, this was one of the many languages she spoke. This little tantrum being thrown was for the sake of getting it out in the air, before the negotiations could truly take place.
It was terrible to say, but Istiana was bored. The posturing and puffing of the others around the table, reminding her of birds that resided in Theonika, who would puff up their feathers and strut around when the mating season came around.
She had retained the services of a couple of local girls, to help keep the libations flowing, it was much easier to direct men when they loosened up due to drink. Her eyes caught the touch that was both inappropriate and unwanted of one of the delegates to one of the girls she’d paid for assistance. The movement was swift, the dagger drawn from between the slit in her dress, from her thigh and so deeply embedded in the man’s hand, it went all the way through to the table.
“I warned you all, at the beginning of these talks, that the girls were not to be molested. They are not here for entertainment.” The tone of her voice was low, deadly. From behind her, she heard the shuffling sounds of the Imperial men becoming prepared should this break out into something bigger, they were her contingent, her protection. A menacing growl also sounded from behind her and it didn’t take much for her to know just who that was. With a wrench, she pulled the dagger free. “I assume I have made the point more… salient gentlemen.” Murmurs of agreement came from around the table and when she leaned back, Istiana was acutely aware that Marc was closer than he had been before.
For hours, the talks continued, with Istiana leading the conversation, leading them like pack mules to water, to doing things exactly as she wanted them to, it was why she was opted into these talks, she never came away without the wanted agreement. The food upon the table was devoured as if a plague of locusts had been beset upon it, flagon upon flagon and cask upon cask of wine had been swallowed.
Fortunately, Istiana had had the foresight to set some of the food and wine aside, so that the men that Marcus had brought along with him, would also be sufficiently satiated. And compensated for a day of standing around and looking menacing.
By the time dusk began to fall, all attendees of the delegation were sufficiently imbibed and at long last agreeing to the terms.
Yet more food and drink were supplied, now to help them celebrate.
~~~~~
What followed was more akin to bacchanal than simply a celebration. As Istiana stood near a stone archway that looked upon the courtyard from the gardens, a goblet of wine in her hand, ‘admiring’ her good works. A smile formed on her lips as she felt a finger drag along the exposed area of her back, between the skirt waist and the top. She would know that touch anywhere. She had also been wondering where he had snuck off too.
“Once again, the great Istiana achieves the impossible.” A deep voice came from behind her.
“For a month or two, perhaps. They’ll be back to wanting each other dead sooner rather than later.” She admitted. No one would hear her above the troubadours playing lively music or the sound of the cavorting going on.
“Then why all this trouble?” Marcus asked. Subtleties of politics were a strange thing to grasp.
“For when they do, the Empire now has all it needs to swoop in and make vassal states of them. They agreed to it. It was part of the peace terms.” There was a smugness about her, the Emperor had wanted them, and she had gotten them for him.
His hand came into view by her side. “Come dance with me.”
“I shouldn’t.” Oh how she wanted to take his hand, slip away into the night, the tone in her voice implied as much. So when the offered hand pressed into her stomach and pulled her back, whisking her away into the growing darkness of the evening in the garden. She was not surprised, he seemed to know her better than she did herself.
They were still close enough to hear the music from within, yet far enough away from prying eyes. Here, under the rising moon, they danced, hand in hand, spinning, twirling. Teasing. Lingering touches that spoke of a longing, a desire. At the crescendo of the song, Marcus’ hand wrapped around the back of her thigh, with a swiftness his size would make it seem impossible. With her leg in his hand, he lifted her, spinning her around with him, before the music died down. Or perhaps they were so closed into their own little world that they no longer heard anything else.
Quick breaths and soft smiles came from both. Then Istiana kissed him, her strength, her resistance all gone as she felt his strong form pressed into her. It was not the soft kiss of lovers reunited, it was intense, needy and reaching the fever pitch between that always simmered just below the surface. He took her down to the ground, laying her beneath him before he surged forward, starting to leave a wolf welt against her neck as she gave herself over to him. Hands hastily clawed at one another.
Right up until the moment screams began to echo in the air, leeching all amorousness from them both. As quickly as they had fallen on one another, they were just as quickly getting up. An orange haze started above the wall into the courtyard and smoke was starting to billow down to them. They made for the archway that had aided their escape.
Within the walls of the courtyard, faction was set upon faction, killing one another right there before them. Istiana’s face turned to stone as she palmed the dagger from her belt. “Take them all. Leave none alive.” She said to Marcus, as he gave the signal to his men who had been remaining in a holding pattern until the order came.
As the legion men engaged, it was only a matter of time before it was done. This was quicker than anticipated, though in some ways, it gave the Imperial Army the justification to go and take what would be theirs anyway.
By the end of it all, her own dagger dripped with blood, spatterings of it on her face, warm yet cooling rapidly.
“Well. That was not the end of peace terms I was expecting…. More wine, anyone? Drink your fill. You all earned it.”
-END-
Moderators: Ravenesque Istiana Komenenos (played by Ravenesque) Marcus Leocadus (played by Tyranoth)