jacksjg89
PROCRASTINATOR
Messaline made a pic for one of my two other stories I started on this site. I asked her what I could do for her. The answer was to write her crucifixion.
(I absolutely promise I will complete this story and then go back and complete the other two before starting any new ones) Also, I will have a new chapter every day. Enjoy)
Messaline wanted a real weapon. The gift from her betrothed was a pretty piece of jewelry, the gold hilted dagger encrusted with rubies that hung from her belt. Meanwhile, her warrior sisters carried spears while bows were slung behind their backs. The men carried heavy clubs and great swords, and her father’s mighty axe, Windclaw, was at his side. It was humiliating. They were going to the stronghold of a known enemy, and yet, she was not ready for a fight. Everyone wore leather armor, while she wore a gaudy silk dress. They used their own feet while only she and her father rode on horseback, as if to put themselves above the others. And most of all, they all knew what was troubling her, and used it to humor themselves.
“Once you’ve got a son, we’ll send you a head from the battlefield you can give to him.”
“I have a stick for you. You may need it on your wedding night.”
“We’ll come round to your lovely palace once a fortnight to beat your silly. Can’t have you be getting soft on us.”
These remarks came from the women she had fought with, who would lay down their own lives for her as she would for them. The males did not add their own comments but joined the merrymaking at her expense.
Her father had the loudest laugh she had ever heard. The ground shook, as if the Earth itself was laughing with him. Unlike his daughter, he had no problem with the façade of hierarchy. It was merely to humor the Casians.
“I remember the day I married your mother. She carried a thick stick over her shoulder and told me she was not afraid to use it. Threat of violence is always the key to a happy union in amongst our people. It is only too bad that this is not the case.”
The Casians were the traditional enemy of Messaline’s people. The Parasians moved around a lot. They did not build large walled cities the way the Casians did, preferring to camp by the river in warm climate, and moving to shelter during the winter months. The Casians thought them barbaric and uncivilized, but the Casians themselves were greedy, scheming, and untrustworthy. The rich lived in grand palaces, built by the poor, who lived hastily built shacks, with a couple sticks for walls, and a couple sticks for roofs. They had slaves pour their wine in golden goblets, and serve their food on silver plates. And they did it because they ruling Casians told them to, and it did not occur to them ignore their orders, as it would not have occurred to Messaline to not help build a warm hut for a mother and her children.
These differences had to be put aside with the threat coming from the East. Horsemen who fought with fiery weapons, who killed for killing sake, the death of a great warrior or a crawling babe yielding equal honor in their eyes, and following a madman who saw himself as a god, and demanded the destruction of those who did not worship him. Kasahn’s horde had laid waste to several Casian cities, but the Parasians paid them no mind, figuring that it was fair game to plunder the haves and give to the have nots. The tales of extermination of entire populaces was thought of as propaganda. It was only till the attack on their people, and the death of her mother by flaming arrows, that her father sought alliance against their ancient ally against the new common enemy.
The Casians saw them as barbaric and backwards, so they tried to cheat them in their dealings. Kasahn and his horde saw them as heathen, and were commanded by their deity to kill all who opposed him.
The Casians would not accept an alliance without a marriage pact, as was the tradition with their people. Her father did not command Messaline to marry the son of the governor of Adaisia, nor ask her if she wanted to. He asked if she believed that this matrimonial union and alliance was in the best interest of her people. It was not a matter of her going to spend the rest of her life in one place, with a man she had hardly met, who had grown up in luxury and had probably never done a hard day’s work in his life. It was not a matter of her not waking up every morning in the hut that she helped built, sharing a slice of pig meat by the camp fire with those she loved, and instead being waited on by slaves and servants who did not dare look at her. It was not a matter of being separated from Natasha, who she would miss more than anyone else. What she wanted had nothing to do with it. Her father had sought her council in regards to the fate of her people. With the engineering of the Casians, and the ferocious bravery of the Parasian men and women, they could send the false king into the deepest hole in Hell. And she, after thinking it through for a day, told him that she thought it was in the best interest of her people that she leave her people to marry this Casian pretty boy, who she had herd had golden hair longer than hers, and instead of training to use a weapon, played the lyre and read poetry. Leadership was about making sacrifices.
The Jokes continued. Natasha did not join in. She brought up the rear, and when Messaline turned to catch her eye, she was always looking off somewhere else. They had not spoken much since the announcement. Natasha was angry at Messaline, but mostly angry with herself at being angry with her. She wallowed in her guilt, and stayed away. Messaline wanted her. Wanted to touch her breast, and wanted her to rub her hands through her hair. She wanted to swim naked with her, and to kiss her underwater, as they had done so often before.
But the time for that had gone. The walls that encircled her new home were in sight.
(I absolutely promise I will complete this story and then go back and complete the other two before starting any new ones) Also, I will have a new chapter every day. Enjoy)
Messaline wanted a real weapon. The gift from her betrothed was a pretty piece of jewelry, the gold hilted dagger encrusted with rubies that hung from her belt. Meanwhile, her warrior sisters carried spears while bows were slung behind their backs. The men carried heavy clubs and great swords, and her father’s mighty axe, Windclaw, was at his side. It was humiliating. They were going to the stronghold of a known enemy, and yet, she was not ready for a fight. Everyone wore leather armor, while she wore a gaudy silk dress. They used their own feet while only she and her father rode on horseback, as if to put themselves above the others. And most of all, they all knew what was troubling her, and used it to humor themselves.
“Once you’ve got a son, we’ll send you a head from the battlefield you can give to him.”
“I have a stick for you. You may need it on your wedding night.”
“We’ll come round to your lovely palace once a fortnight to beat your silly. Can’t have you be getting soft on us.”
These remarks came from the women she had fought with, who would lay down their own lives for her as she would for them. The males did not add their own comments but joined the merrymaking at her expense.
Her father had the loudest laugh she had ever heard. The ground shook, as if the Earth itself was laughing with him. Unlike his daughter, he had no problem with the façade of hierarchy. It was merely to humor the Casians.
“I remember the day I married your mother. She carried a thick stick over her shoulder and told me she was not afraid to use it. Threat of violence is always the key to a happy union in amongst our people. It is only too bad that this is not the case.”
The Casians were the traditional enemy of Messaline’s people. The Parasians moved around a lot. They did not build large walled cities the way the Casians did, preferring to camp by the river in warm climate, and moving to shelter during the winter months. The Casians thought them barbaric and uncivilized, but the Casians themselves were greedy, scheming, and untrustworthy. The rich lived in grand palaces, built by the poor, who lived hastily built shacks, with a couple sticks for walls, and a couple sticks for roofs. They had slaves pour their wine in golden goblets, and serve their food on silver plates. And they did it because they ruling Casians told them to, and it did not occur to them ignore their orders, as it would not have occurred to Messaline to not help build a warm hut for a mother and her children.
These differences had to be put aside with the threat coming from the East. Horsemen who fought with fiery weapons, who killed for killing sake, the death of a great warrior or a crawling babe yielding equal honor in their eyes, and following a madman who saw himself as a god, and demanded the destruction of those who did not worship him. Kasahn’s horde had laid waste to several Casian cities, but the Parasians paid them no mind, figuring that it was fair game to plunder the haves and give to the have nots. The tales of extermination of entire populaces was thought of as propaganda. It was only till the attack on their people, and the death of her mother by flaming arrows, that her father sought alliance against their ancient ally against the new common enemy.
The Casians saw them as barbaric and backwards, so they tried to cheat them in their dealings. Kasahn and his horde saw them as heathen, and were commanded by their deity to kill all who opposed him.
The Casians would not accept an alliance without a marriage pact, as was the tradition with their people. Her father did not command Messaline to marry the son of the governor of Adaisia, nor ask her if she wanted to. He asked if she believed that this matrimonial union and alliance was in the best interest of her people. It was not a matter of her going to spend the rest of her life in one place, with a man she had hardly met, who had grown up in luxury and had probably never done a hard day’s work in his life. It was not a matter of her not waking up every morning in the hut that she helped built, sharing a slice of pig meat by the camp fire with those she loved, and instead being waited on by slaves and servants who did not dare look at her. It was not a matter of being separated from Natasha, who she would miss more than anyone else. What she wanted had nothing to do with it. Her father had sought her council in regards to the fate of her people. With the engineering of the Casians, and the ferocious bravery of the Parasian men and women, they could send the false king into the deepest hole in Hell. And she, after thinking it through for a day, told him that she thought it was in the best interest of her people that she leave her people to marry this Casian pretty boy, who she had herd had golden hair longer than hers, and instead of training to use a weapon, played the lyre and read poetry. Leadership was about making sacrifices.
The Jokes continued. Natasha did not join in. She brought up the rear, and when Messaline turned to catch her eye, she was always looking off somewhere else. They had not spoken much since the announcement. Natasha was angry at Messaline, but mostly angry with herself at being angry with her. She wallowed in her guilt, and stayed away. Messaline wanted her. Wanted to touch her breast, and wanted her to rub her hands through her hair. She wanted to swim naked with her, and to kiss her underwater, as they had done so often before.
But the time for that had gone. The walls that encircled her new home were in sight.
The last pic was an animed gif but not uploading in its full size: so, I've reduced but it's not animed, now!
What an investigation! But, I wonder why...it's strange....
