The Drow Queen of Glaley [Very NSFW]

[Coquette Blacquin]

Noire reaches the altar, where Paerle waits, ready to conduct the ceremony. The ceremony isn't long; thankfully, and very oddly, nobody speaks up when she asks if there are any challenges to the rights of Claudia and Coquette to be wed. Wynnith leans over to her mother and makes what must be a snide comment, and both snicker, but neither speak aloud.

Coquette holds her hand out, taking Claudia's, and a fine gold chain is wrapped around their hands. A leather collar is locked into place around Coquette's neck, and as she struggles to control her breathing, to keep it even, the chain is clipped to the ring on the front. Then, a sharp needle is used to pierce the bridge of Claudia's nose, just below where she wears a stud for her marriage to Estelle, and a ring is threaded through, the chain clipped to it as well. The ring and the ring on Coquette's collar are both silver, indicating both as lesser wives; Estelle wears a collar with a gold ring on it, signifying her as the greater wife in the marriage. 

As one, they turn to face the gathered guests, as Paerle says the ritual words binding them together in the eyes of the law and Drow culture. The chain is unhooked, and divided in two, one piece looped around each of their necks as a momento. Then, with music and applause, they exit, heading to the feast. 

At the feast, the first thing Coquette does is present the embroidery she had done to the Matriarch as a thank you for holding the wedding. The piece is beautiful, a bird in a gilded cage, gold thread for the cage and brilliant reds for the bird. She's added a little bit of script to the bottom, just the date in the Drow system so that it is a memento of the wedding. Then she takes her seat at the table with the Matriarch, ready for presents to be presented to her before they can eat. 

The first gift is from Wynnith, brought by a male she has in her keeping. The gift is presented to Claudia, as the greater wife of this wedding: a horse-tail buttplug, along with a bit-and-bridle and a riding crop. Judging by the titters and snickers, she's intended to put them on Coquette now, to see if they fit right. 

[Claudia Emerison]

From Wynnith? Not who I expected but- "You're so thoughtful, Wynnith. And credit due to your memory, that's well sized for me," the imisy gnome says airily, offering a smile as she knowingly steps in front of the arrow aimed at Coquette. Her small tightens at the just loud enough to be heard scoffs and laughter at what she's so freely implying about herself.

At the other end of the head table, Feythal doesn't seem to notice any of this. Instead, she's quietly sitting alone despite the crowd. The embroidered square of fabric is draped over a clean serving tray in front of her and she's almost absently tracing a line of the cage with one finger as she studies it. Or perhaps as she simply stares in that direction, seeing instead memories.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette, on the verge of calling for Zevran to try it on, pauses, listening to Claudia take the arrow. Clever. But... hmm. 

She waves the gift away, and the next is brought forth: a young Drow woman, wearing commoner clothing, who bows as she approaches. "I have been instructed to perform my art upon the lesser bride," she says, holding up a pair of golden barbells sized for a body piercing. 

[Claudia Emerison]

Shit, I forgot to ask if Coquette is okay with body piercings. Another second of anxiety filled thought provides, annnnd that doesn't matter because fuck balls, Coquette's basically a merchant about her body. "Oh dear," she says, the tone filled with sincere concern even if her words are a touch clumsy. "Coquette, darling, have you recovered enough from your surface illness for bloodletting?" Gods, that's such a clunky out but I can't brain fast enough.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"It should be alright," says Noire, eyeing the barbells. Eyebrow? Nose? Whatever it is, I can quietly let it heal closed after. I don't want them to think I'm contagious, she notes, noticing how a few of the others scoot just a tiny bit away. 

"You will need to remove your gown, my lady," says the woman, and Coquette pales just a touch, glancing at Claudia. 

[Estelle Emerison]

"No need to stand, Coquette," Estelle offers quietly. "There's a tie at the nape that will allow your dress to open enough for the procedure." As she explains, expression pleasant and casual, she gestures at her own chest to make it clear what has to be exposed. 

[Coquette Blacquin]

Oh. Oh no. My breasts? She wants to pierce...? whimpers Cindy. 

Quiet. We will accept this with grace, insists Noire. 

Noire reaches up to untie the gown, letting it fall open and showing the room her tiny, elven breasts. They have gotten a little larger with childbirth, but not much. Nothing at all compared to the ample busoms in the room around her. A small titter of laughter goes around the room, and the merchant moves forward, kneeling beside Coquette's chair. 

"This will pinch a little," she warns, and then pain shoots through Coquette's left tit. She manages not to squeak, instead biting down on her lower lip, tears springing to her eyes. The second goes a little better, as she is more prepared, and then the artisan backs up, showing two gleaming barbells now in Coquette's breast. 

(I will never let you change me, Cindy remembers swearing, and yet here they are, body changed and changed and changed almost beyond recognition, and this is one more change and--)

(Calm down, demands Noire, but the breathing accelerates despite her best efforts)

[Claudia Emerison]

"Looks good on you," Claudia offers, blushing softly as she tries to both give an honestly appreciative look and avoid embarrassing Coquette even more by staring. "No, I have it," she adds, seeing the merchant pulling out a jar of ointment. Pushing past her objections by way of ignoring them, the imisy gnome moves in front of Coquette and offers a shy smile. Eyes apologetic, she murmurs, "figured you'd prefer I apply the healing salve?" As opposed to some stranger, she means.

[Coquette Blacquin]

She strangles a small whimper and nods. She closes her eyes, fighting for her equilibrium as Claudia applies the salve. I'm glad Cedric isn't here for this, Cindy notes. He would be so mad. 

Where is he, anyway?

[Claudia Emerison]

Claudia's smile turns flirty, though it looks a little forced, as she takes her time applying the salve. Despite her lingering and thoroughness, however, her touch is gentle and non-sexual. Mostly anyway. Finishing, she hums softly as she gives Coquette another careful look. "Not entirely sold on the color," she comments, "but I like the look in general. Gold, yes, but maybe a rose gold? Hmmm."

[Coquette Blacquin]

Coquette nods, quiet, as a conversation begins among those at her table, comparing the color of her aereolas, her skin tone, her hair color, versus various colors of metal. She feels like she's in a meat market. She feels dirty. 

[NPCs]

Oh good, that seems to have settled her, Claudia thinks with mistaken relief. The next two gifts are decidedly less interesting or impactful, if still laden with subtleties; a bundle of scrolls that are a history of the Enclave (learn our ways and fit in, thanks) and a box of cheap scented candles from the surface that are, admittedly, far more scarce here ('so you can smell the surface and remember home' meaning this isn't). Some unimportant relation of Estelle's is six words into giving her congratulations along with a bottle of nice but generic wine when--

"Granddaughter; a few minutes of your time."

The young drow female's mouth snaps shut at the first syllable with an audible clack. She nearly tosses the wine on Coquette's table and scurries away to her own table, not wanting to give even a hint of contesting Feythal's summons.

[Coquette Blacquin]

Noire rises smoothly, turning to Faythiel with a placid smile and a curtsey. "Of course, Grandmother. How may I be of service?"

[NPCs]

Without looking up, Feythal gestures for Coquette to sit next to her. A space on either side of the Matriarch had been left empty without explanation, something Coquette had noticed earlier. No explanation but also no discussion or comment, as if it was both obvious and not to be spoken on. "Tell me about this," she murmurs, the topic clearly the artwork in front of her but the specifics left, perhaps deliberately, unclear.

[Coquette Blacquin]

"It's just a bit of needlepoint, colored threads in fabric to decorate it. The bird is a cardinal, a common bird in Glaley where I am from; I spent many hours as a girl sketching them, so I recall exactly how they appear, and this is the best likeness thread can manage. This is a common art among girls in Glaley, to improve their marriageable prospects."