The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Claudia Emerison]

Claudia snorts lightly, a bit of humor in her eyes. "Not much? Your skin might be pale, sure, but you certainly hold yourself as drow as much as at least half of the tall folk in the Enclave. But..." She trails off, eyes drifting to her husband. "You said your name was Zevran? Did V-- Where did you get that name?"

Frowning, the male merikos replies, "my birthmother, I was told. My father was human, and human back a half dozen generations, but he dallied with one he thought a surface elf after being widowed. I was left in my half-brother's crib-- he was seven years older than I-- in the middle of the night. The crib had been in the attic, but she must have assembled it and put it in the kitchen, near the fire."

"Do you know what her name was? Or where she was from, anything?"

Zevran shakes his head at the question, then pauses. "Well, I know what she told my father in her guise as an elf. She was passing herself off as a jewel merchant, selling polished gems: sapphires and garnets mostly, my father gave me a hair chain with small gems of both in it that I've long since lost. She claimed to be orphaned, having started here business as a way of getting a fresh start in life after her parents died, I think." He hums, thinking, for a few seconds. "He admitted once, when I pressed him for more when he was a bit wine-taken and thus more loose-lipped than he would otherwise have been, that she was a deeply sensual woman, clearly experienced, in a way that both thrilled and frightened him. Given, well, this," he rubs his forearm, "that is now unsurprising. Oh, her fake name was a rather bland 'Melissia' but I doubt that helps much."

[Coquette Blacquin]

"You have more of your mother's history than I do," says Coquette sadly. "I never asked my mother much about where she came from. I know she was raised in an elven village, but I don't know which of her parents was which. We never spoke about it."

[Zevran]

"In a way, I suppose," Zevran allows. "It was lies, her history, but as far as I can tell, her skills were real. The chain was very well made and the gems of sterling quality. The red--"

"You're sure it was garnet? Not ruby?"

"Ah, yes? I mean, my father was told it was garnet and the merchants that tried to buy the two pieces she gave us all confirmed it was... a less valuable gem, which would keep the price lower. Hrrm. Probably garnet then?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Do the gems matter, then?"

[Claudia Emerison]

"Just... well, The Robijn Enclave was named such for good reason." At Zevran's politely confused look, she explains. "It's gnomish for rubies. The primary export-- well, now kind of tied but anyway-- of the Enclave are conundrums. Rubies, sapphires and the other gems found alongside them. Garnets are pretty common for instance. Was she pureblood or merikos? Do you know?"

"Ah, well, she was posing as a merikos elf?"

"It's... well, 'frowned-upon' is putting it mildly, but it's not impossible she was a blow-by of someone here then," Claudia muses, tapping her chin. "That would give a weak link, that's true enough. Hmm. Wouldn't be enough to get you much; drudge work long-term or guest rights short-term. But it's a starting place. Would you both consent to a Blood-telling? Uh, sorry, that's a ritual-- a shortish one-- that will denote your bloodline history to seventeen links, either back or broad, depending on how the ritual is cast. Names, race, gender, strong magical influence, even a broad endgame for their soul if they're dead." She winces, then adds with some regret, "but I want to warn you; there's two versions with different prices. Both need three drops of blood as the focus, but... One is paid with your blood and hurts like fire. The other is paid in earth's blood; precious metals, about a double handful of molten gold or so. Can you..?"

[Coquette Blacquin]

"What is the potential here? Let's say best case scenario, it turns out the Matriarch is my grandmother or some such. Wouldn't any ancestor of mine be either accounted for or, more likely, exiled already? Are there that many missing links in your family's chains that you suspect this has a good chance of working?"

[Claudia Emerison]

"Best case? He's the blow-by of a guard or escort of a female drow out on some mission or another," Claudia explains. "That would make him family. Best of best is that he's the son of a male that's part of the Emerison Familigia; Matriarch Feythal is very family focused. In such a case, her law says that the female in charge of the fath-- oh, right mother. Hmm. So blow-by of a blow-by? Not as direct but still enough. Anyway, the female in charge of the mother would be obligated to set him up comfortably, either by paying you a stipend that's enough to live on fairly, if not nicely, or to help him find a role in the Enclave that is at least better than the stipend. And that would take his suitability to the job, skill and personality both, into account. As his wife, you would be in charge of his, uh, finances and such, but you'd have to make your own arrangements for a role, though most females would take it as a point of honor to at least give you token support in your effort. More if you make it worthwhile in some way."

She smirks then, though there's no small amount of resigned bitterness in it. "Oh, there's no way she's your grandmother, but for funsies, if she was? She'd probably try to arrange a marriage for you. She's gotten better at them I hear."

[Coquette Blacquin]

For a moment -- a very brief moment -- Coquette looks revolted before her face settles. "I see. Thank you. We do not have enough gold to throw it away on a slim chance, but I will do the payment by blood if that is acceptable. Zevran will do the same." 

[Zevran]

"I will go first, if I may," Zevran says quietly, unbothered by Coquette volen-tellig him for the ritual. "If mine comes up well enough, then perhaps we can pay for the second in gold. Or not bother entirely," he explains in a low voice to Coquette.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"Nonsense," says Coquette. "I would be a poor mistress, to have my husband face what I am unwilling or afraid to face myself first." 

[Zevran]

"You've paid far more than enough already for our freedom, my love," Zevran counters, voice low and pleading but sincere. "I have felt pain that 'hurts like fire' before, many times, and it is far from the worst. Please?" I suspect I will not be able to convince her, but I must try, must embrace and fed the part of me that wishes to try, if I am to be myself again. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

"It can hardly be worse than giving birth, which I have done twice."

[NPCs]

"It does," the teifling grunts shortly. "Like taking a shot of pure rotgot, but it's your blood and it lasts for 'bout an hour."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette gives the tiefling a disdainful look, eyeing her hips. "I have rather more narrow hips than you, and each birth lasted approximately twelve hours. I am confident I can handle the pain."

[Zevran]

"She did not say you couldn't," Zevran chimes in diplomatically. "I am sure you can handle it, mon sauveur bien-aimé, I simply..." He sighs softly, a crooked, wane smile on his lips, and takes her hand gently in his own. "I do not wish for you to hurt anymore. I know I cannot prevent all ills from reaching you but I'll be damned and devoured before I stop trying."