The Ambassador's Visit (closed)

[saedo]

Closed for Aluris
The coach slowed as we passed through the main gates. I glanced briefly out the curtained windows at the passing architecture. Like its citizens, the buildings favored elaborate flourishes and elegant arches.

I snorted derisively as I leaned back into the seat. Damn elves. Their fondness for elaborate excess annoyed me at every turn.

Part of me wished we had not signed the peace treaty that ended the war. I enjoyed killing their pretty little warriors. Their gleaming armor might look like polished silver, but it was no match for an ogre's axe. My palms itched to feel the thick handle in my hand again, to feel the thud as the heavy blade buried itself in an elven ribcage.

Still, I grudgingly acknowledged that the treaty was the more rational choice. Until we ogres had united the dozens of orc clans under a single banner, their ancient rivalries and constant infighting had made them a minor annoyance at worst for the elves. Fighting together, we would eventually crush the elven defenders, but the bloodthirsty clans would no doubt be at each other's throats within months. The Council numbered too few ogres to exert sufficient control over the entirety of the elven lands. So when the pointy eared bastards offered to cede all territory north of the Silverado River, the Ogre Council accepted.

My wartime experience had recommended me to be the newly appointed ambassador from the Council. Having personally killed countless elves, the Council thought I would prove suitably intimidating in the upcoming negotiations. Best the dandelion eaters be reminded that accepting their peace offering did not mean the ogres had gone soft.

The coach slowed to a halt. After a moment, my orc honor guard opened the doors. I stepped out into the sunlight and beheld my welcome party.

Half a dozen elves in resplendent attire stood several yards away. A few platoons of warriors in shiny armor provided their own honor guard. Beyond that, dozens of servants and underlings looked on in with rapt curiosity.

I grinned at the muffled gasps from the crowd as I stepped out of the coach. While most elves were familiar with orcs, we ogres were rare; no doubt few of the elves had ever seen one in the flesh before.

The size disparity always surprised them. Most orcs were no taller than an elven warrior, though much broader and sturdier in build than the slender elves. But at seven feet, I towered over everyone. Moreover, my heavy frame was easily as broad as any two of them. I was a mighty oak tree amongst blades of river grass.

The lack of hair probably threw them as well. Elves always had long, flowing manes of gleaming hair. Even orcs had thick, shaggy dark hair - typically bound up into braids. Ogres, however, were bald. My pale blue skin was completely hairless

The half dozen elves assembled to greet me were comprised of four males and two females, judging by the luscious curves that the duo at the right sported under their all-encompassing robes. Highborne elves favored silk clothing that exposed little beyond their face and hands. Showing more skin was a mark of a lowborn servant or laborer. Ogre physiology made such garments superfluous - our thick skin and underlying fat inured us to most temperatures - but I'd donned a silk robe of my own to accommodate their preferences for this first meeting.

"I am Lord Idris, Ambassador from the Ogre Council," I announced as I gazed down at the highborne welcoming party. "I have been traveling for days and I am hungry from my long journey. I recommend you skip your long speeches of welcome and show me to the feast that you have prepared in honor of my arrival."

 

[Aluris]

"Lady Naerin, Lord Idris has arrived."

The fluttering giggles of Elven handmaidens were often compared to those of songbirds, at least by their lovers - I, on the other hand, often compared them to the laughter of children. Immature, useless, and usually for no good reason. Today was no difference. It seemed the arrival of the Ogre ambassador was a reason for much amusement amongst the higher-ranked of the Elven kingdom. Perhaps my bitterness could be attributed to the fact that I was to ensure his comfort and communication during the next few days of discussion... what could an Ogre want, after all? Another animal to swallow whole? A painting to spit at, a statue to smash into pieces?
Yes, definitely bitter. I looked out of the window, the afternoon sun filtering through the airy curtains. I could see the coach, and then the huge figure of the ambassador exit it - by the Maker, he was truly that large? I had never seen Ogres outside of sketches and written descriptions, but still, the amount of shock I felt was incredible. He towered over the waiting group, the men and women bowing formally before gesturing him to follow them inside. The ambassador's lumbering walk was nothing but... embarrassing. That the Ogre had sent him to represent their numbers said a lot about their brutish species.

I did not agree with the treaty. Perhaps that's why I had been chosen to wait on him; some idiot probably still held a grudge in the courts. A whimsical sigh followed me as I retreated from the glass panes, moving instead to the mirror to brush strands of silver hair in place on either side of my face. Pale, porcelain... I wasn't meant to be some runaround for an Ogre!
"You can leave." I finally snapped, my own handmaidens chittering and then exiting the room. They could feel my bad mood, and I was being far too open with it, but what else would anyone expect me to be? I was an aspiring historian - they claimed this would make me perfect for the role, to educate the barbarian in our ways, but it was all-

"My lady, please. He's waiting in the main hall."
Now they'd sent Folroy, one of the entertainers. It took all I had to smile pleasantly, clasping my hands together so they rested on the stomach of my silver and blue dress. My feet remained bare, as was custom indoors, my fingers and neck encrusted with delicate silver jewelry that winded tight to my skin.
"I'm ready. Are you to lead me to him?"
This irritating dance of court, to pretend to be so eager for even the most awful of tasks. Folroy ate it up though, his demeanor clearly relaxing as I agreed to leave immediately.
"Of course." He simpered. "This way."
He extended his arm, meaning for me to take it, which then of course I had to. Keeping my head high, all 5'8 of me moved poised out of the room, leaving behind the quiet, the light, and the privacy of my own quarters. I would be situated in a room next to the ambassador's for the next three days (or however long it took to finalize the deal) to be at close call, and I would most likely not see my usual schedule until then.

Leading me down one of the large, elegant staircases, we finally walked out from the side of the main hall. The ambassador was indeed waiting there, currently being told some history of the palace - no doubt some twaddle of its original creators being so long ago that their names are not even remembered, but it has been kept within Elven royalty for at least six centuries - and we had to wait patiently to his right until his greeter finally ran out of breath.

"Ambassador Lord Idris." I finally said, making sure my tone had the right mix of polite delicateness for the role I was about to take. "It is my pleasure. Your trip, I hope, was agreeable?"

 

[saedo]

I'd spent the better part of two hours being "entertained" with speeches and lectures. Most featured lots of education on elvish history and culture, but I detected the subtle undercurrent of superiority whenever any other races were mentioned. The elves liked to think themselves to be the paragons of politeness, but they were just more elegant about their arrogance.

Still, their wine was undeniably excellent. The orcs favored potent grain-based spirits that left a fiery trail down the throat. The elven wine was far more complex and subtle. I'd drained multiple goblets and found the mild intoxication made the droning lectures of my host somewhat bearable.

My present host was some noble well-versed in architecture. The elvish fondness for wooden construction was somewhat novel since most other races favored stone. (The Elvish word for their race meant "children of the forest".) This Lord Talea had been delighted to give me a walking tour of the Great Hall as he explained how the nigh unworkable ironwood had been shaped into the arches supporting the ceiling far overhead nearly six centuries ago. His fascination with the historical evolution of the architecture seemed boundless.

My casual interest had been exhausted several tedious minutes ago, but I suspected that my enthusiastic educator would be difficult to silence with anything shy of violence. Not wanting to undermine the peace accords on the first night of my arrival, I smiled grimly and drank more wine. I was consequently grateful when the crowds of mingling elves parted to allow a new pair to approach us. Anything to change the topic of conversation.

The male stopped before us and withdrew his arm from the female he was escorting. "Ambassador, please allow me to introduce Lady Naerin," he intoned, sweeping his arm demonstratively towards her. "She will be attending to you during your stay."

Naerin was clad in a floor-length dress of blue and silver. Even indoors, the elves of higher rank still wore all-encompassing attire. The one concession seemed to be footwear - most dispensed with it, treading barefoot on the soft green carpeting that ran throughout the castle. (Two lecturers earlier I'd been thoroughly apprised of how the delicate moss was cultivated into such durable yet comfortable carpets.)

Their conservative clothing truly seemed a crime in the case of the females. Amongst all the races, few would dispute that elven females ranked amongst the most beautiful. Yet they achieved this acclaim despite covering nearly every attribute that most other females would have eagerly flaunted.

Lady Naerin seemed a particularly fine example. By virtue of their naturally slender frames, elven bosoms tended to be surprisingly luscious, but the swells beneath Naerin's dress suggested orbs that beggared the imagination. That her dress reached up to her neck and offered not even the tiniest hint of cleavage - even from my towering height - struck me as sacrilege.

Her large eyes met my gaze with a surprising amount of confidence. My mass clearly intimidated most of them and I suspected the number of campfire tales that featured ogres as villains only further enhanced that aspect. Yet Naerin never wavered.

"Ambassador Lord Idris." Her voice was likewise serious. Polite, but her tone suggested her courtesy was but a veneer. "It is my pleasure. Your trip, I hope, was agreeable?"

"It was long, Lady Naerin," I replied simply. After two hours of feigning interest in all things elven, my patience for small talk had worn thin. However, the choice of this maiden intrigued me. Given the whiff of disdain I sensed from her, I was curious just what she was prepared to do.

I nodded my head towards her escort. "So you are to be attending to me. So if I have any needs, I can expect you to satisfy them?"

 

[Aluris]

The first thing that sprang to mind was awe. His height! The beast towered over me as if he had been stretched at birth, and he'd been clearly ate enough to compensate since. Invasive thoughts took over for the initial few seconds of his greeting - he could snap me in two, he could swallow my entire head whole, he could kill us all!
Somehow, I kept my composure. It only speaks of the amount of self-control I have in my possession. Still, I could barely contain a shudder as the thing talked, its large teeth grinding in the maw which was apparently its mouth.

"It was long, Lady Naerin"

Well, at least it could speak, although its thick, guttural accent ruined our shared language as thoroughly as if he'd sharpened the sticks of linguistics and stuck it through a hundred times. The syllables were stunted, no grace, the extensions of the sounds apparently beyond his clumsy tongue. The harshness of it scraped over my skin like sandpaper. Again, to my credit, my reply was only a polite smile and the gentle bob of head that I had been taught so painstakingly through childhood. Although I doubt my matron ever thought I'd be using it towards one of these brutes.

"So you are to be attending to me. So if I have any needs, I can expect you to satisfy them?"

"That is correct, Ambassador." I replied curtly, the sound of Elven - even if my own voice - soothing the cracks in my demeanor that his own words had caused. "I am to ensure your comfort during your stay. After you have met the appropriate people, it is my first task to show you the designated chambers for your rest, and to discuss any additional measures needed for your..."
How to put this... it was a delicate matter, and I took a hesitant second to continue.
"... cultural needs."

 

[saedo]

Despite the substantial height difference, I got the subtle impression that the female was figuratively looking down her nose at me. Her words had the veneer of diplomacy, but this one did not much care for me. She was not here by choice.

I could guess at the mindset that had placed her before me. Elves - particularly those in the nobility - had very high self-regard. Their belief that elves were paragons of dignity and civilization would proscribe that a foreign ambassador be accorded great respect - even if that ambassador represented a nation they disdained. Consequently, this Naerin was no doubt from a major house with ties to the royal family; only one of high birth would have the requisite social status to attend to an ambassador.

While intellectually I understood why this graceful beauty bore no fondness for me, my tolerance for the elven sense of superiority was already stretched thin. After a long journey, I'd spent the last two hours enduring a unceasing cavalcade of foppish elves extolling the greatness of their civilization. Though my mission here required I keep my temper, my forbearance was at an end.

I decided to have a little fun with this silvery-haired poppet. "The elves are truly a gracious people to have entrusted my care into such capable hands," I praised.

The elf who'd introduced her smiled, no doubt pleased to see that I'd recognized how superior he and his kind were. Arrogant twit.

Still smiling, I extended my right hand towards her, proffering my empty goblet. "You may begin by fetching me more wine." I maintained my smile - open and friendly - while I waited for Naerin's reaction.

 

[Aluris]

Of course, all eyes were on me. They could not wait to see how I would react to the beast's request; in fact, I could even see the Lady Tierse glancing in our direction, her veil not quite covering her gaze. Gossiping whores. Such thoughts were usually below me, but given the circumstances, strong words were appropriate. I'd rather be throwing them at the smug, monstrous face in front of me but circumstances...

"Of course, Ambassador." Again, I astounded even myself with the restraint. He was a guest after all... an honoured guest, but still. Guest. It pleased me however, that he was showing his lack of graces so early on in the visit. The obvious disrespect for myself and for my rank in society would surely be memorable to all eavesdropping.
That thought made my smile very much genuine as I took his goblet, ensuring my fingers did not so much as brush against his meaty digits. It was by instinct that I looked into his eyes as I stood away again - there was something there, something dark and calculating. A glint. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't hold his gaze for longer than a few seconds, and it was with a curt bowing of my head that I finally broke it whilst allowing myself to retain my composure.

"I won't be too long. Excuse me." I managed to say smoothly before relieving the small gathering of my presence, grasping the goblet to my chest before realising what I was doing and lowering it again to hold with both hands. Truly, a feral beast. What had we let into our palace?
One thing was for certain: I was not going to anger this particular thing without very good reason. And guards to back me up!

 

[saedo]

For a moment, my request hung in the air, like a dandelion seed on the wind. What would her reaction be? A noble of her rank had not likely been asked to fetch much of anything since she was a child. To request it of her now would surely tweak her pride.

Yet it was such a minor request. To refuse it outright would surely seem discourteous. Given how her countrymen had tiptoed around me since my arrival, I doubted she wished to be the first to offend the foreign ambassador - particularly over something so slight as a request for wine.

I could see the brief debate rage behind her eyes for a heartbeat before she spoke. "Of course, Ambassador."

Her fingers wrapped around the goblet. The elves had wisely fashioned a chalice built for my size, since their slender glassware barely held more than a single swallow for me. (Even I must acknowledge that the elven obsession with courtesy and protocol was not without some usefulness.) The weight required her to hold it with both hands, so she clutched it close to her chest as she turned and walked away.

She returned in due time with the goblet full of the light crimson liquid. "Ah, my thanks, Lady Naerin," I declared as I retrieved the refilled chalice. I noted that she took care to make sure her fingers did not touch mine. A sign of courtesy? Or did the thought of touching me repulse her?

I did not have opportunity to test her further. Soon the banquet prepared in my honor was announced ready. I was seated near the head of the table adjacent to the royal family and the King's Hand. Lady Naerin was seated next to me, as befit her role.

Short speeches followed, including one of my own. We each professed various platitudes about seeking peaceful relations between the former adversaries for the betterment of all concerned. I doubt many of the room believed a word of any of it, but such was how the game is played.

Only when the speeches ended and the feasting began could I once again turn my attention to my lovely companion. "Tell me, Lady Naerin," I inquired between the first and second courses. "How came you to be my attaché during these negotiations?"

 

[Aluris]

Banquets. Usually I enjoy them; despite the inane social-political dances that are required throughout, they have the most variety of food at one place you'll ever find in the palace. Various meats, vegetable dishes, and light pastries were all lined down the white linen tablecloth. Silver plates and their matching cutlery were in front of every placement, the dishes separated with swathes of colourful flowers from the royal gardens. The air was thick with the scent of the greenery, as well as the honeyed desserts now baking from the kitchens.
Yes, banquets are simply delightful. However, this one had me seated next to...

"Tell me, Lady Naerin, how came you to be my attaché during these negotiations?"

You guessed it.
"I was one of quite a few who requested the position." I smiled innocently, picking up my wine glass to cover my initial glance at those around me. A terrible lie, not that the Ogre would know. Or probably care. But I had an image to uphold, and seeming rude to such a guest would be... unflattering.
"It's seen as an honour to be one of those introducing you to our culture." I continued. "I was lucky to be a part of your official group. I have quite a few ideas for activities you can partake in inbetween your discussions with the council, despite the short time you'll be with us."
I felt the gazes of onlookers prickle upon my skin, but I simply brightened my smile to the Ambassador and sipped from my glass, moving in my seat to face him properly.

 

[saedo]

The left corner of my mouth crept a little higher at her words. I could believe that few would request such an assignment. Having grown up on tales where ogres ranked alongside witches and dragons as traditional villains and coupled with the recent war, the typical elven reaction to my presence was typically a mixture of fear, anger, and distrust.

But I found it correspondingly questionable that she was among the minority who were so fascinated by my novelty - a real life ogre in the flesh - as to welcome the opportunity to interact with me. If genuine interest lurked beneath that cool demeanor, she was concealing it well. Perhaps she had officially volunteered for her role, but I suspected was likely because social pressure made doing anything else untenable.

Still, her effort to feign interest was intriguing in its own right. Just how far was she prepared to go to achieve a favorable impression?

I tilted my head as she discussed potential activities. "Yes, I would like to hear more," I replied. "I do feel I have so much to learn from your people."

There was some truth to that, but it also never hurt to compliment the elves. Having come to regard themselves as the cultural elite of the mortal races, they always enjoyed hearing an outsider agree with their assessment.

"One of my earlier encounters was telling me that the elves have such a deep understanding of anatomy as to provide the most relaxing massage in all the realms. Is that true? I confess that after my long journey, I am more than a little interested in the veracity of his claim."

 

[Aluris]

"One of my earlier encounters was telling me that the elves have such a deep understanding of anatomy as to provide the most relaxing massage in all the realms. Is that true? I confess that after my long journey, I am more than a little interested in the veracity of his claim."

I gave him a deadpan look. If I had thought his mind capable of the possibility, I would think he was mocking me; as it was, I simply thought him unsure of basic social etiquette. Curious eyes now flickered to our discussion in anticipation of my answer. It was not clear if the obvious amusement was towards the Ambassador's ignorance or my discomfort.
"We have trained masseuses, as I'm sure many species do." I replied carefully, punctuating my reply with a neatly-timed sip of my drink. "I can ensure one is made available to your quarters past the feast, if it pleases you."
He continued staring at me - clearly, this was not enough information to satisfy his apparent urge. I sighed inwardly.
"From memory alone, I feel our massage culture began a few hundred years ago. It was post-Finlis War, when our species began properly cultivating the medical trade, and whilst we liased with humans we realised their ways of tending to sore muscles and fatigue was greatly superior to our own. We borrowed much from their ways, and then over time we have explored avenues better suited for our physiques."
I allowed myself the luxury of a sarcastic look over the Ogre's features.
"I'm not sure how effective they'll be on you, but I'm sure they can use initiative."