The Priestess and the Poet

[HalfTangible]

It is said that the High Priestess of Yphine is not just the voice of the goddess Yphine, but the goddess herself - her will, made manifest in the form of a woman. To know that such a being was on your side could make an entire army's morale ironclad, and no commander in their right mind would ever discount morale. At least 30 regiments had been lost over the course of this war - each worth a thousand men. There was no way to look at numbers like that without concluding your odds of survival were small.

Now, the voice of Yphine had come before the regiments arrayed against the Empire of Dawn, and made an impassioned speech that she was sure had done more harm than good. Now, as the sun set on the eve of battle, she knelt in a tent alone. She wore the simple chemise and pair of bracers she always wore in public, adornment minimal. She clasped her hands before a true ice effigy of Yphine and prayed.

"Blessed be those who stand against the servants of the Flame and do not falter. May the cold brace them, and frost bite at the heels of their foes." She intoned quietly, her cat-like ears pressing against her head in reverence. "Blessed be these soldiers who go to fight in Your name. Blessed be the servants of Tzultetep, the consort who feasts on the flame. May the Doctrine be victorious, and our sacrifices honored."

It was a prayer she'd made up on the spot, granted, but she felt it worked. Marvella couldn't risk herself on the battlefield - she wasn't much of a general and was simply too soft-hearted. She could fight like a soldier, certainly, she had enough magic to do that and more - but she couldn't kill like one. Instead, she'd have to content herself with praying for Yphine's favor on the battlefield.

So absorbed was she in her prayers that she did not hear the iron-clad boots sneaking into the tent behind her... then again, her tail was twitching with what might be excitement, so maybe she was perfectly aware of who was behind her.

[Reggiejam]

Eero crept up as quietly as he could behind the High Priestess in his full armored form and stood for a moment straddling the High Priestess' tail that twitched back and forth between his feet but never quite touched his boots.

"And standing before the goddess' most divine creation he of mortal flesh so easily made weak of knee was weakened," Eero said with dramatic flair.

The catfolk high priestess turned to see her half elven lover standing with a foolish grin on his fine face dressed in, what for all the world looked to be Yorukunin armor. It was a strange sight, the poet so often adorned in the finery of an Ice Palace Courtier and never armed but for a quill now stood as if born and bred for battle. Or so an unknowing appraiser might believe. With military training it would be obvious the young elf was ill fitting and standing in an uncomfortable and incorrect way within the confines of the plate and his sword was buckled poorly at his waist such that a wrong move might see the sheath fallen off and left lying on the ground. Still, despite it he looked almost heroic as if possessed by some mythological warrior and put to march to a glorious war. A war that could not have been this one if it was intended to be glorious.

"Er, well I'd planned to fall to my knees after that but this armor is quite heavy and I don't know that I'd be able to stand back up," he gave the High Priestess an apologetic lopsided grin.

[HalfTangible]

Eero crept up as quietly as he could behind the High Priestess in his full armored form and stood for a moment straddling the High Priestess' tail that twitched back and forth between his feet but never quite touched his boots.

"And standing before the goddess' most divine creation he of mortal flesh so easily made weak of knee was weakened," Eero said with dramatic flair.

The catfolk high priestess turned to see her half elven lover standing with a foolish grin on his fine face dressed in, what for all the world looked to be Yorukunin armor. It was a strange sight, the poet so often adorned in the finery of an Ice Palace Courtier and never armed but for a quill now stood as if born and bred for battle. Or so an unknowing appraiser might believe. With military training it would be obvious the young elf was ill fitting and standing in an uncomfortable and incorrect way within the confines of the plate and his sword was buckled poorly at his waist such that a wrong move might see the sheath fallen off and left lying on the ground. Still, despite it he looked almost heroic as if possessed by some mythological warrior and put to march to a glorious war. A war that could not have been this one if it was intended to be glorious.

"Er, well I'd planned to fall to my knees after that but this armor is quite heavy and I don't know that I'd be able to stand back up," he gave the High Priestess an apologetic lopsided grin.
His lopsided grin would be met with a pair of lips like rose petals. The High Priestess wrapped her arms around him and for a few brief moments simply kissed her lover, so long separated from her by distance and politics. She broke the kiss apart after too little time, but kept her arms wrapped around him. The catfolk woman smiled warmly at the half-elf, her tail twitching and ears turned straight towards him.

"You never need to kneel before me, my poet... Well. Not with armor on, any-"

She stopped talking. It took a few moments, but as she looked his armor over, a frown marred her lovely features, and it only grew deeper the longer she looked. Her poet looked dressed for combat. Moreover, he looked poorly dressed for combat - Marvella had not trained with armor, but she had witnessed entire processions of soldiers in her life, and almost immediately his armor looked wrong. It didn't fit him, he had buckled his sword improperly... And the only reason he'd need to keep that armor on now that he was here was...

... Oh, Frostmoon...

"Eero..." She looked up, and the cat ears flattened against her head. "That's... just a disguise so you could sneak in here, right? You're not actually here to fight, are you?"

[Reggiejam]

Eero returned the High Priestess' kiss with a passion matching Marvella's own. His gauntleted hands fell about her waist carefully, weighed down more than they ever had been before in an embrace owing to his unfamiliar outfit. He pulled back his head as she pulled back her own, his smile looked to be an eager pause waiting to return to her lips with his own.

"I will defend the lands of my lady, the lands of her liege, and the lands I love. The beauty of the land now turned battlefield reminds me of you and I should have no force threaten what is even fractionally you my goddess, nor should put at risk your health anymore than I should drive a sword through my very heart. Of course I come to fight. I will stand ever in defense of you Marvella."

He leaned back in to return to the passionate kissing prior to the interruption.

[HalfTangible]

His lips found her hand instead. "Hold it, lover boy. Talk for a minute." Marvella said quietly, her voice growing stern. "You can't be serious. When I got your last letter you were still a poet, have you even had any combat training?" She made no move to remove his hand from her waist, however, and she pressed her chest against his armor. She was definitely happy to see him, but... something was wrong. "That armor barely fits you and your sword looks like it's about to fall out of the sheathe!"

[Reggiejam]

Eero's smile fell and he looked confusedly into Marvella's eyes, a look lined with pain.

"I...I thought you would be pleased I'd taken up arms for you Marvella? A poet is a warrior of words, seeking and piercing through to the heart of the reader. A sword can be no different and a sword will have me remembered. I have read many poems of warriors defending their lovers. I had hoped to truly live it, not write of it to you, but prove it. I would gladly march out among the soldiery and praise the Goddesses' name for I know the deepest of connections to Her name."

He looked down at his side, checking his sword and not hiding his wandering eye as he returned his gaze to catch Marvella's own.

"Maybe I need a little more training, but I will prove my love for you not just by quill but by blade as well."

[HalfTangible]

Eero's smile fell and he looked confusedly into Marvella's eyes, a look lined with pain.

"I...I thought you would be pleased I'd taken up arms for you Marvella? A poet is a warrior of words, seeking and piercing through to the heart of the reader. A sword can be no different and a sword will have me remembered. I have read many poems of warriors defending their lovers. I had hoped to truly live it, not write of it to you, but prove it. I would gladly march out among the soldiery and praise the Goddesses' name for I know the deepest of connections to Her name."

He looked down at his side, checking his sword and not hiding his wandering eye as he returned his gaze to catch Marvella's own.

"Maybe I need a little more training, but I will prove my love for you not just by quill but by blade as well."

"My love..." Marvella took his face in her hands. "You don't need to prove anything to me. If you go out on that battlefield as you are, you'll die. And then your words will be all I have left." Her own face was afraid and pained now. "Please, put the sword down. I don't want a warrior, I want my poet." She pulled him close, her hands sliding along his armor to unstrap it. "The man I danced with at the grand ball, the one whose poems make me feel beautiful and wanted..." She pressed her lips against his once more. "I want him to come back to Sycia with me. Be my- Yphine's consort. Never worry about death and carnage off of the page again."

[Reggiejam]

Eero's composure cracked as Marvella embraced him and moved to undo his armor. He didn't resist as the breastplate came loose at her fingers and his eyes sparkled with wetness. He returned her kiss but pulled back to hide his face and wipe at his eyes.

"But, I never knew, I thought-" he swallowed, "Is a bastard poet worthy of being consort to a goddess?" his tone left it unclear if he was referencing Yphinne or Marvella.

[HalfTangible]

Eero's composure cracked as Marvella embraced him and moved to undo his armor. He didn't resist as the breastplate came loose at her fingers and his eyes sparkled with wetness. He returned her kiss but pulled back to hide his face and wipe at his eyes.

"But, I never knew, I thought-" he swallowed, "Is a bastard poet worthy of being consort to a goddess?" his tone left it unclear if he was referencing Yphinne or Marvella.

"Eero, I'm not even sure I'm worthy of being Her voice. What I'm worthy of, what you're worthy of... none of that matters to me." Gauntlets. Boots. Greaves. Then what was underneath... She tried not to let her mouth water as more of her lover was revealed. "All I know is I want you to be mine." She leaned in close, her voice taking on a different tone than usual. Her hands grasped his behind roughly. "And I know you want us both... Marvella and Yphine..."

No, the teal voice is not arousal, I'm not THAT dirty >.> It's a part of Marvella's character arc that I've been letting gather dust for a while.

[Reggiejam]

As the armor and padding beneath it was stripped away Eero joined cautiously in, undoing the laces of the leather that kept the metal of his plate from digging into his skin. As his plate and leather fell away his wanting became quite clear to Marvella, pressed so close against him. He swallowed again, though this time it was out of a sense of modesty than one of fear but perhaps it was a bit of the latter as her hands grasped his own.

"Well I suppose that's worthy enough then," he said, a smile teasing at his lips, "I am yours, my goddess."


I remember from your first post! Yphinne has the hots for Eero too! What an honor!

[HalfTangible]

As the armor and padding beneath it was stripped away Eero joined cautiously in, undoing the laces of the leather that kept the metal of his plate from digging into his skin. As his plate and leather fell away his wanting became quite clear to Marvella, pressed so close against him. He swallowed again, though this time it was out of a sense of modesty than one of fear but perhaps it was a bit of the latter as her hands grasped his own.

"Well I suppose that's worthy enough then," he said, a smile teasing at his lips, "I am yours, my goddess."


I remember from your first post! Yphinne has the hots for Eero too! What an honor!
in yphine's case, it's more a case of "I own you" but yes

Marvella pushed the boy down onto the makeshift bed laid out for her and grinned. "Yes you are." Her chemise slid off of her shoulders and onto the ground. "Now, do show my High Priestess a good time, my little Eero."

And the screen faded to black...