[M] Draconian Prophecy (Ushima/Ashen)

[Ushima]

Mikal smiled. "Yes we can see the forge and armory. It's best we get out of their way so they can work." He took her hand, a friendly gesture, a prince escorting his esteemed guest around wasn't uncommon. "I only have the one sword. I also have a few daggers I keep on me when I wear my armor. But I am proficient in other weapons." The prince could pick up anything and wield it good enough to get the job done, but he preferred his sword. "As for magic users we have about twenty five Castle Magicians and a handful of staff can use minor spells for their day to day tasks like Beatrice. They're all overseen by High Mystic Delara. She's was a friend of my fathers growing up and when he was crowned King he had to choose his own advisors so he brought her into the Inner Circle as High Mystic. She had already been an Arch Mage for a few years before then." He led her out of the kitchens and down the hall. Soon they came to a stairway and went down two flights of stairs. They walked down to a set of large iron doors which were open. The group could feel a slight increase in heat as they entered. The forges were lit and bright. Liquid metal was pouring out of the smelters. "Master Aeon! You in here!?" Mikal yelled over the sound of work.

"I heard you were back kid." A large man appeared from behind one of the bellows. He was tall, tan skinned with a thick white beard that was separated into the with golden bands. His right eye was covered with an leather eye patch, behind it was a scar. "This the lass that saved your skin?"

Mikal rolled his eyes, he'd been getting teased all day about that. "My skin was far from needing saving thank you. But this is Clover."

Aeon laughed. "Pleasure to meet you little lady. Welcome to the forge." The Forge Master gestured around the room. "Through that door there," He pointed across the room where another smaller door was. "Is the armory. We take the finished products there for the castle guards to grab." The ground shook slightly. "Ah there she is. Clover I want you too meet Yara." A four legged dragon approached the group. Her scales were a dark gray, the color of iron. "She assists me in forging. All our weapons use dragon fire to melt the ore." As if to show off Yara turned her head, breathing fire into the bottom of a forge. "Good girl." Aeon patted her side. "So what do you think? Impressive setup we have here. If you ever need something fixed or made just come to me. Any friend of Mikal's is a friend of ours."

[Ashen]

It was fascinating learning about the number of mages the Drakilian castle staff contained. Clover tried in her head to count the mages in her tribe, but there were far fewer. Magic had always been a skill of envy for her, and she wondered, if only for a moment, if the mages here would be able to teach her a thing or two. No, she told herself. Even if someone did want to teach her--and why would they? She was the enemy--she had never had the affinity before. She'd have to leave the magic business to Mikal, and to his loyal staff.

She followed him from the kitchens, down more long corridors. It was so easy to get lost here, when all the halls looked the same. Clover looked up, astounded, at the large doors they came across. They looked big enough for an entire world to fit through. She shook her head, snapping out of her thoughts. Mikal called for someone, so she peered inside the room to see whom he was calling. It was a man, maybe their smith. She smiled politely at him but kept quiet, only giggling when he teased Mikal. "I'd disagree," she murmured to the prince, but was soon quieted again as they introduced another man.

Man, however, Yara was not. Clover looked over the large, prideful dragon before her. "Hello," she said. "Aren't you a pretty thing?" She gently reached out to pet the dragon. "Such a hard worker, too!" She commented. Clover then stepped away and looked back to the large man before her. "Everything here is incredible," she said, motioning her arms around her. "The manpower you have is impressive, and you use it so efficiently." She hesitated then. Her dagger was suddenly heavy by her hip. "Tell me, sir, are you able to fix up blades?" She placed a hand into the folds of her skirt and pulled out her single dagger. "Would you be able to fix ridges into the side of this, perhaps sharpen it some? I would love to see how you work."

It was true; Clover did want to see how the men worked. She'd be taking mental notes for her tribe, without doubt. But she also wasn't too opposed to having her dagger fixed up, made into a more efficient tool and weapon. Her gaze went to the door to the armory. "And, may I see your work? What have you finished that is unclaimed so far?" Turning to Mikal, she asked, "Can we go look?"

[Ushima]

Aeon took the dagger from Clover and held it up, inspecting it with a master's eye. "Looks like it hasn't seen a whetstone in awhile. Leave it to me. You two run along and I'll get it back to you when the job's done." Master Aron went to work, taking apart the hilt and guard. He threw it in the smelter with an appropriate amount of ore. Yara sauntered over and blew fire into it. The liquid metal flowed out into an ingot mold. Once it cooled he'd hammer out a new blade, put the guard and handle back on and wrap it in leather. He'd give it new pommel, a squared one with a decorative rune etched into it, his signature. A small detail that adds a bit of aesthetic flair to the weapon.

While Master Aeon went to work Mikal led Clover to the armory. Armor and weapon racks lined the walls and center of the room, allowing a simple rectangle of space for them to walk. Plate armor shined in the torchlight. The weapons housed here consisted of two racks of lances, longswords, shortswords and daggers. These were mass produced weapons and armor for the soldiers here at the castle so there were quite simple in design. Plain but deadly. "Go ahead pick something out that you want to hold. Just careful swinging a lance around, not a lot of room in here." From the next room they could easily hear the sound of hammer on metal. Aeon was getting to work shaping the blade.

"My lord." Beatrice stepped forward. "I'd like to remind you the queen wishes to have tea with her this afternoon. If you plan to keep her entertained until then please to have her running around too much."

Mikal chuckled. "Yes I'd hate to keep mother waiting while Clover cleans herself up. I promise we'll take it easy today."

Beatrice bowed slightly. "Thank you my lord."

[Ashen]

Clover was sure to thank the smith before she was led into the armory. There, her eyes became aglow at the sight of all the metal. The armor was so foreign to her, yet shone in such brilliance that she had to admire it. The weapons looked efficient and simple, not like what she had at home. The Lucet weapons were bulkier, as the beasts of her family could afford to sacrifice agility, and they usually were more decorated. Clover tried to take note of all the differences in her head, storing them into her memory so she could tell the Lucet blacksmiths all about them.

When Mikal told her to pick something, Clover looked at him in surprise, as if asking if he were sure. She looked at the lances and longswords, the shortswords and daggers. Her fingers danced in the air above the racks. Finally, Clover's hand closed over one of the longswords. She held it firmly as she looked over its blade. She then waved it around, fighting an invisible opponent. "It's very easy to wield," she commented. Clover pretended to parry with it, then faced Mikal. She considered, for a moment, challenging him to a duel, but the armory perhaps was not the best place to do it. When Beatrice reminded the prince of her later plans, her idea was further slashed. Later, she thought, and she hung up the sword again.

She tried out the shortswords as well, and even felt the lances. Lastly Clover wielded twin daggers, trying to get a feel for how hers would be. When she finished studying all of the weapons, she looked back to Mikal. "What time does your mother want to see me?" she asked. "I don't know what to say to her. She's... She's the wife of the enemy king, what can I...?" Her voice trailed as she looked into Mikal's eyes. "That shouldn't mean anything, you are still my enemy too, but... What if I say something wrong, and she comes at my head? I'd quite like to wait to see her until my dagger is finished. Er, just for safety, you know."

[Ushima]

Mikal sighed. Glancing at Beatrice he was glad to see she hadn't heard what Clover had said. The sound of Aeon hammering away and Yara's rumbles of fire was enough to keep people not withing three feet of hearing their conversation. "You really need to start watching what you say and paying attention to who's around." Playfully Mikal flicked her forehead before running a gentle hand through her hair. "At least not until I speak with my father later." He was surprised with how smooth it was. "Hm seems soap suits you. Your hair is nice. Did you enjoy all the fancy scents available to you?"

"My lord." Beatrice came over and spoke. Apparently Aeon had stopped hammering and stuck the blade back in for another heat, allowing Beatrice to hear the last bit of his sentence. "It's a bit inappropriate to ask a lady who isn't your intended about their bath."

"Yes you're quite right." Mikal pulled his hand back, missing running it through her hair already. "It's just Clover is used to country life. All those fancy soaps and oils and knobs must've been quite the experience."

Beatrice chuckled softly. "She did seem quite fascinated with the bathroom."

"Well Aeon is going to be at least a couple of hours to reforge your blade into shape." The hammering picked up again. "Besides having a dagger would do you no good anyway. She isn't usually one for violence." The Queen could put up a fight if she had too, but now she had at least four armed guards to do that for her. "Even if she was she's a much more accomplished magician than I am. It's he method of choice if she has to roll up the sleeves of her dress."

"Shall we get going?" Beatrice gestured to the doorway.

"My mother just wants to talk with you a bit over tea and biscuits. Thank you for helping her only son." Mikal informed her. "Also probably discuss getting you a formal dress. Have fun!"

Beatrice led clover to the Royal Garden. It was in a large open cavern in the mountain. A big opening in the ceiling to let in sunlight. All around were magnificent flowers. Queen Galdora was seated under a gazebo in the center of the garden. It was situated in a small pond with a stone walkway to it. A dragon whelpling on her lap sleeping. Behind her was a large purple dragon that laid comfortably near the structure. "Ah Clover. Please have a seat my dear." A servant came and set down a tray with some biscuits. Then he poured two cups of tea, handing one to the Queen then Clover. "I thought I'd take the time to get to know my son's friend. The first real one he's made. You see grew up with the other court noble children so he didn't get to make his own. It was expected they'd befriend one another as that's who would be making up his own court when he took over." Galdora sipped her tea. "So tell me about yourself."

[Ashen]

Clover could only roll her eyes at the prince's warning. She glanced towards Beatrice, but the servant hadn't seemed to hear her. Mikal's change of subject had her turning to him sharply. She liked the feel of his fingers in her hair, and she made a small noise of pleasure as he did. Beatrice interrupted them before she could answer, and Clover couldn't understand her statement. Drakilian customs, she decided, were too strange to figure out.

Clover shifted uncomfortably. She'd have no weapon while meeting with the queen. Even if she were one of the most accomplished mages in the kingdom, Clover would have felt better with something. She tried to push her thoughts to the back of her mind. Clover nodded at Beatrice, and she started away from the armory, away from Mikal, towards the enemy queen.

The garden was beautiful. Clover looked through the cavern in awe. She looked around at all the flowers, loving the scents they brought. The dragons caught her attention, but Clover forced herself to look at Queen Galdora. She looked like the model of nobility, the exact figure Clover had been trained to hate. She swallowed the lump in her throat and curtsied. She sat across from the queen and looked over the biscuits and tea cups. Such fancy things, things her family would not have bothered with. She murmured a thanks and waited for the queen to sip her tea before taking her own. The liquid filled her with warmth, and had a bittersweet taste. She smirked a bit when the queen said Mikal had no other friends. That couldn't have been true, she decided. He had all the nobles waiting for his hand in marriage, and he had that Draket, and all the people who'd trained him. What, then, were they? She didn't dare speak up against her, and kept quiet, until Galdora asked about her.

Clover hesitated. What if she said something that gave her away? She placed her teacup down and smiled. Should she start with her name? Did Drakets have long names, too? "My name is Trifolia Collis Lunae." She left out the Lucis, the shared familiar name of all Lucet. "I like exploring, and hunting, and many sorts of physically straining activities. I enjoy spending time with family, especially children. I, well... I enjoy pestering your son, but all in good fun, of course." She turned her attention back to her tea. What more was she to say? "I am able to answer any questions you have," she said. She hesitated, then added, "Your Majesty."

[Ushima]

"Yes Mikal is quite entertaining when you get under his skin a bit." Galdora chuckled, scratching the whelpling's belly. It let out a light squeal and wiggled around in the Queen's arms. "Who's a good baby boy?" Reaching over to the tray of biscuits she grabbed one. "You hungry?" Galdora fed the baby dragon, smiling when it made a noise of delight and happiness. "You're also adventurous like my son. You two must have hit it off while he was away. I've never seen him this way. Normally he's always training or has his head in military matters. For him to take time away from that to spend it with anyone is impressive. You must be quite the lady."

The Queen reached out for a cup of tea. "Now I know you weren't too happy with the wardrobe this morning. My assessment is you prefer practical clothing over all this flashy frills and such." Galdora sipped her tea. "Which is why it's going to be entertaining to take you to the Royal Seamstress and get fitted for a dress." A devilish grin spread across her face. "I remember how much I hated being stuffed into regal fittings. Beatrice?"

The maid stepped forward. "Yes my lady?"

"Has Ophella arrived yet?" The Queen asked, taking another sip.

"She is currently getting ready and will be able to see you within an hour." Beatrice replied.

"Thank you Beatrice." The maid bowed. Galdora took another sip and set the cup down. "Ophella is a master of her craft so I'm sure we can find at least something you won't deem dreadful." The Queen picked up two biscuits, feeding one to the whelpling and eating the second. "Any style or recommendations you'd like? Or shall we let the master decide?"

[Ashen]

As Queen Galdora spoke of her son, Clover realized how much she enjoyed this conversation. She liked finding out such things about the crown prince, and had every intention of teasing him about it all later. She stifled a chuckle when the queen assumed they'd hit it off immediately. Clover did not want to tell her the truth about it. The memory seemed distant now, when she had broken into this very castle and taken the prince away. He hadn't liked her at all, was apathetic at best. Now what were they? Were they friends now? More than that? Clover didn't know what to make of them, and she didn't know how to even bring it up with Mikal.

They moved onto the subject of her dress, and Clover could not help but make a face. She didn't want to think about being outfitted in something else that was too long and too frilly, and so she scowled at the idea. However, it seemed that the queen was at least somewhat understanding of her situation, and she was grateful for that. Maybe they would even allow her to wear her shorts around the castle. She raised a brow at the mention of a royal seamstress. "I don't think that's necessary, ah, Your Majesty, I'm perfectly content in what I'm wearing now." That was stretching the truth a bit, but she was at least tolerable of this outfit. Clover just didn't want to try on even more dresses and more ridiculous getups.

As she thought of particular styles, her gaze fell. She absently took a bite of a biscuit as she thought it over. "Something short?" she suggested, hoping a thing was possible. It seemed nobles liked long gowns. "I just think the longer the gown the more restricting it feels. I would like to be able to run in a dress, if the need should arise. Maybe not so bright colors, either." She looked back to the queen. "I'm sorry if I'm being difficult. Is that acceptable to you?" Briefly, she wondered what Mikal would like to see her in. Would he like the long gowns, the bright colors? She shook her head. "I'm sure whatever you suit me with will be acceptable though. I don't want to be a burden. Thank you."

[Ushima]

"We'll get something to suit you dear don't worry." Galdora smiled. "Ophella is wonderful. We'll let her work her magic." The queen finished her tea and set down the empty cup. "Shall we go?" The dragon whelpling fluttered out of Galdora's arms. It glided over to the larger dragon and curled up against it. "Come along dear. The sooner we start the sooner it's done." Mikal's mother led the way through the halls toward a large room. It was lavishly decorated. A small stand was surrounded by three mirrors. A decorative couch was placed across the room.

"Ah your majesty." An older woman approached the group, bowing before the queen. "I wondered what the urgency was when I received your summons but now I see why."

"Clover here is attending a feast tonight to celebrate the prince's return. Now it seems she doesn't have much of an affinity for royal gowns." The queen directed Clover onto the stand. "She'd like something short, but not too short. We And clearly go light on the decorative frills. Simplicity it key here."

"Ah yes I've got something perfect in mind." Ophella stepped toward Clover. "Now dear we'll be taking your measurements." She produced a measuring tape. "Hold still please.

[Ashen]

As much as Clover did not want to follow the queen to a fitting room, she knew it was inevitable. Before getting up, Clover watched the tiny dragon run out of the queen's hands. She smiled at it. So small and innocent, it reminded her of the children of her tribe. She shifted suddenly, remembering all of them, and how she missed them. The children were always the hardest to leave when she went on her little adventures, but unlike before, she did not have any idea how long she would be gone. How much growing would the kids experience before she got back? She didn't want to think about it too much, but she could not hide the sadness that soon met her face.

It wasn't long before the sadness fell away from her face. When she entered the fitting room, Clover scowled. The large mirrors let her see herself, so she corrected her action. A woman was here, the fitter Clover presumed. She made a comment about Clover needing urgency, and that scowl Clover did not chase away. She let the queen do all the talking. Her expectations weren't very high, but she was just hopeful that whatever these women outfitted her with wouldn't be as bad as she was fearing.

Ophella mentioned something about taking measurements. "Oh, yeah," Clover mumbled, beginning to tug at the edges of her dress, but Ophella didn't seem to want her to undress. So, the girl stood there, awkward, waiting for the woman to finish with her tape measure. She let her measure her waist, her height, her breasts. She didn't mind being touched, her culture had never fostered the reservations this one had, she just felt that she should be doing something, or saying something. Instead, she was silent until Ophella finally finished. Clover looked between Galdora and Ophella. "Do you need anything more of me?" she asked. "Forgive me, I don't know how this works."