jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
[personal profile] jeriendhal
“Not so tight,” Salli growled.

Nari flinched, and loosened the knot on the heavy silk sash around Salli's hips, twin to the governor's sash slung over her shoulder, the latter embroidered in green with a map of Greenholme's continents. “Sorry, Milady,” she muttered.

“It's all right,” Salli said, instantly contrite for snarling at a servant. “I just haven't worn these since... since the memorial ceremony back at the colony. When we scattered the ashes of victims of the pirate attack.”

That earned another flinch from Nari. “I suppose that would make for unhappy memories, Milady,” she said.

“Indeed.” She shrugged her shoulders, adjusting the hang of her dress as Nari moved behind her to take care of the remaining buttons, swishing her tail through the little flap stitched in her skirt. “Let's get this over with,” she muttered.

Stepping out of her suite, she found another irritation waiting for her on the settee. Zaker was sitting there, her usual smile on her muzzle.

“Shouldn't you be minding the perimeter?” Salli asked, willing her ears and tail to remain still.

“Will be soon,” Zaker said amiably, standing up to give her a brief bow. “First I'm to escort you to the ballroom.”

To make certain I bothered to show up, Salli concluded. “Let us go then.”

Zaker walked beside her down the hallway, as they headed towards the main staircase. “Y'know, I'm really not angling towards Blacksailor's job.”

“That's good, because you're not getting it,” she replied.

“Mind you, I'm not sure why she's got it. Bit of a loose cannon if you ask me.”

“I didn't,” Salli said evenly, trying not to grind her fangs together. “Alinadar, for the record, has an absolutely frightening amount of self-control. She has defended me from all manner of pirates and would-be kidnappers. I have seen her face down her greatest and most powerful tormentor, unarmed and dressed in only her pelt, and neither flinch nor falter. She is not a 'loose cannon.' She is my most stalwart defender, and her loyalty is unquestioning.”

Zaker raised her paws in defense. “All right, all right! I'm not arguing. But at least I'm not frightened of her like the other staff are.”

“Which of the staff?” Salli demanded.

The bodyguard shrugged. “Not my place to say, milady. I'm sorry.”

“The Mother Goddess you are,” Salli growled.

Could that be true? The other staff of the manor being frightened of Ali? But what did they know of her truly, beyond the terrible story of her enslavement and history of being a child soldier under Bloody Margo's command? Of being forced to murder other children, hiding the vents and small spaces of the innocent freighters the pirates attacked. They don't see as I do. See the wounds such an enslavement left on her soul. They only see the monster Bloody Margo wished to warp her into. They don't see the young vixen mourning all the corpses she had made, never able to wash their blood off her claws.

“If you don't want the truth, close your ears, Lady Salli,” Zaker said, her expression darkening. “But I won't lie to you.”

Salli nodded sharply, then went down the stairs to the waiting guests. It would be no torment, compared to what Ali had to face every day in the mirror.

Date: 2015-09-20 12:00 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] resonant.livejournal.com
Just from a tailoring viewpoint - would the evolution of fashion have made a tail-slit more likely than a tail-flap? The fabric would drape more smoothly on each side, without any bunching.

Date: 2015-09-21 01:07 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] jeriendhal.livejournal.com
I was thinking a sort of layered skirt, with the tail slipping out under one of the folds.

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