gilded cage

Despite being the Lifebringer’s most favored consort, Raikal enjoyed very few privileges in its court. In fact, because of their position, they suspected they enjoyed less. Naiyta’s court was many things- it was grand, opulent, extravagent- but a fair court it was not. It was only a mockery of the true, ruling Southern courts Naiyta was imitating. It was a game, and oh, how Naiyta enjoyed a game.

Court was held most mornings, between Naiyta itself, a collection of powerless dignitaries and nobles, any visiting ambassadors from lands the Lifebringer had treaties with, and the highest ranking courtesans. Raikal, of course, being the highest ranking of them all.

What scant political powers they had once had, had now after nearly a thousand years, had all slowly been stripped away. Though they were, in title, still a diplomat and representative of corvi interests, Raikal’s purpose in court was made clear from years of abuse: they were to sit quietly, look pretty, and take what was given to them.

When they weren’t the subject of cruel, horribly public erotic demonstrations, Raikal’s role in court was exceedingly dull. They sat on a low cushion at the base of Naiyta’s throne, and when instructed, would cling to its legs, kiss its feet, or prostrate themself before it, all in show of upmost fealty and devotion. Raikal was an example of the way any those attending court were meant to act before Naiyta. They were to be the epitome of obedience.

Though they tried to pay attention to the politics at play, in a desperate attempt to retain at least some of their independence, they often found themself distracted- by the bodily aches and bruises left over from the previous night, by Naiyta idly fondling their hair, their ears, their face, and today- by a soft-faced southern consort sitting delicately in a ray of light.

Raikal tried, as best they could, to keep a passing knowledge of all of Naiyta’s currently serving consorts. It was a difficult feat- there were, at times, over a hundred of them in the harem, from all corners of the world, at it seemed at times they died and got replaced faster than Raikal could ever learn their names. But they had to try- it was what they owed the others in the same position they were. They would always be an outsider among the ordinary consorts- again, being Naiyta’s favored came with no benefits and all-too-many drawbacks. They knew they weren’t trusted, and being the only corvi among a harem of humans would always set them apart. And yet, still, after nearly a thousand years with only Naiyta as a constant presence in their life, Raikal had attempted to make friends.

The woman who’d caught their eye, they knew slightly more than the name of. She was called Odalia Xiel Ilftaidos, a long southern name with syllables Raikal struggled to enunciate. She was from, Raikal believed, the Maleki tribe in the more western southern islands. Like many of the harem consorts, she was an unwanted child of a noble lineage, given up to Naiyta in a trade for peace. She had been in court for about five years now, but Raikal did not know if Naiyta had ever solicited her privately yet. That wasn’t to say she was safe from the Lifebringer’s interest, though.

Still, the gilded cage that was Naiyta’s court had yet to take a toll on Odalia’s appearance, at least in Raikal’s eyes. She had soft, warm brown skin the color of wood from a walnut tree. Her eyes were impossibly dark for a human, but with a certain brightness, unweathered by the harshness of her situation. Her hair was coily and cloudlike, styled in a way so it floated around her head like the haloes Naiyta liked itself depicted with. Among the pitch darkness of her hair she had placed in small star ornaments, creating the image of a night sky. Raikal had met her, quite a few times before, but none of their meetings had been anything but happenstance crossings of their paths. Yet, in watching her, Raikal decided they wished to know her better.

A cold hand clawed through Raikal’s hair, guiding their gaze away from Odalia. Raikal kept their expression blank as Naiyta repositioned their head so they were facing it. “You’re loosing focus, my love.” it drawled, its hand sliding down over Raikal’s face, cupping their chin.

Raikal flinched away from the touch, and quickly disguised the motion as a movement towards Naiyta. They pressed a kiss to its calf, and rested their cheek against its leg. “How could I loose focus? You’re the only thing that ever occupies my mind.” They replied. After centuries, they knew exactly what Naiyta wanted to hear, at any moment.

“Then let me occupy all of your sight.” Naiyta placed a possessive hand over Raikal’s head, restricting their movement with more verbal will than physical strength. “Or should I have you chained and restricted, so that you can only look at me?”

Raikal took in a heavy breath. They were already bound, by their wrists and ankles, and leashed by a collar around their neck. Naiyta had introduced that a few centuries ago when after they dared an attempt to flee. “Of course not, my lord. That isn’t necessary.”

“It would be prudent of you to assure me so.” Naiyta’s hand parted from Raikal. “Do not take your eyes away from me, my little songbird, and I will reward you accordingly.”

Raikal steeled themself. Even if they got it, they wouldn’t be enjoying that reward. But they’d enjoy the other outcome less.

They closed their eyes for only a moment, but didn’t look away from Naiyta even when they opened them. “Of course, my lord.

⛭⛯⛭

There were very few pleasures Raikal had left in their life. The balneae was one of them. There was a simple physical pleasure in bathing, that appeased their sensibilities both as a human and a rook. They could wash away the grievances of the day, clean their skin of dirt and grime and sour memories and pretend the next would be different.

And the very best thing about it, was that Naiyta was never there.

Though they had, especially earlier in their relationship, shared much time in the balneae, decidedly not washing up, Raikal had quickly discovered Naiyta’s disdain for public bathing. It was an odd trait Raikal wouldn’t have immediately ascribed to it- the god-on-earth that sometimes appeared to the masses in nothing but a waist-wrap didn’t seem like the shy type, but it wasn’t something they complained about. Raikal would always gladly take what scant and uncommon moments they got to be alone.

Of course, they were never truly alone. The wing of the palace balneae- for it was a large and grand complex that one could wander in for hours Raikal never had- that Raikal used was reserved especially for the consorts, courtiers, and other members of the harem, and there were so many of them it was almost always occupied by someone else. But Raikal would always prefer their company over Naiyta’s.

After court, and after what had occured after court, Raikal left for the balneae. They were met, like always, by a small army of bath-servants who made quick of disrobing them and preparing them to be cleaned. Because god forbid they have any independence, even when deciding what order to wash their own body in. Raikal’s skin was scraped of oil and grime, their curly hair lathered and rinsed, their feathers preened and rearranged til they lay in perfect, unbroken lines. Only once their cuticles were groomed, the hair between their eyebrows was plucked, and their lips moisturized, were they allowed a moment of relaxation. That relaxation came in the form of a luxurious soak in the warm salt baths.

Upon entering the main bathing chamber, Raikal was unsurprised to see the pool already occupied, but suprised to see who it was.

“Lady Odalia,” They greeted, and to mask their surprise added, “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Nor I, you.” She replied, a lightness to her tone. “You are free to join me, if you would like.”

“I would.” Raikal managed a smile, and slipped into the water. It was oh-so-warm, and oh-so-pleasant, rising up to their chest when they sat down in it. The salts tingled against their exfoliated skin, but not in an unpleasant way. With no one else in the bath but Odalia on the other side of the pool, they presumed enough space to let their wings unfurl- and exhaled in relief as their under-developed flight muscles eased into a stretch with it.

“Your wings are very beautiful.” Odalia commented, idly.

Though the compliment hit a nerve- Raikal had heard quite enough about their wings from Naiyta- it was eased, hearing it from Odalia’s voice. “Thank you. The bathservants do a good job of taking care of them for me, I can’t take any credit myself.”

A light laugh rose from Odalia. “You’re the only Corvi I’ve ever met. Please forgive me for any offense I make, I just... well, my sisters always said I was too curious for my own good.”

“I’m afraid I’m a poor example, anyways. I haven’t returned to my people in so long, I’m a rook in appearance alone.” They missed their home, incredibly dearly. And every minute spent in their cultural clothes, with their talisman on their waist, was a reminder of everything they could never go back to. Everything they had sacrificed for. The Corvi were safe, they ensured that with every sacrifice made, every night spent with Naiyta, every lashing endured for an out of turn utterance. They just couldn’t go back.

“I understand.” Odalia admitted with a glance askew. “Every breath I take within these walls, I fear I drift further and further from my home.”

A stabbing pang of sympathy plunged itself into Raikal’s heart. It hurt more than any of the cruelty Naiyta directed at them, to hear that others were going through the same. That this suffering must be shared. And with someone as lovely and pure as Odalia- if Raikal could take all the pain Naiyta had caused her and endure it themself, they would. In a heartbeat, they would.

They chose their next words carefully. “Our master has taken a great deal from all of us,” They admitted, and hoped whatever spies Naiyta had placed in vicinity would forgive them for their next concession, “But at least we are awarded some luxuries.”

“Yes.... I will admit, I never enjoyed baths quite like these back home.” Odalia cast her eyes to the water, and smiled. “I don’t think it’s a luxury I’d soon be able to give up.”

Raikal smiled. “I don’t mean to presume, but most of the consorts bathe directly after court, no?”

“I could return your presumptive question directly back at you,” Odalia smirked, “But yes, many of them do. I like to stroll the gardens in the mornings.”

“The gardens...” Raikal repeated. Naiyta kept lush, exactly manicured lawns and courtyards throughout the palace, but to Raikal, the word conjured images of the Great Garden just outside the palace ground- a wilder, untamed expanse of green. They used to spend time there, back when they had more choice of what they spent their time doing. They missed it. “I’m afraid I haven’t had a chance to see the gardens in quite some time.”

“Perhaps we could wander the paths together, then. I’ll admit, it’s quite lonely out there all by myself.” Odalia sighed. “And, tell me, Raikal, why you choose not to bathe with the others? Despite your status, I don’t perceive you as the haughty type.”

Raikal managed a laugh, but looked away as they confessed, “Ah, I was actually... engaged with Naiyta.”

Odalia’s smile fell, and awkwardly glanced away. “I see. How often do you two...?”

“More often than I would like.” Raikal confessed. “But, ah.... I don’t have very much say in the matter.”

“Mhm. I understand.” Odalia said. Her sonourous voice was suddenly frail, suddenly worried as she glanced over Raikal. They tried not to flinch under her scruntiny, but that was a skill they’d never aqquire.

“May I see your hands, consort Raikal?” She asked.

Raikal knew what Odalia was looking for, but had nothing to loose by showing her. They extended out their hands, palms up, towards her.

Odalia took Raikal’s hands in her own. The skin of her palms was softer, her fingers smaller and daintier than their’s, her nails just as neatly manicured but painted with a reddish-brown lacquer. She cupped Raikal’s hands gently, ever-so-delicately running the pad of her fingers along the bruises and rope-burns around Raikal’s wrists.

Raikal tried, and failed, not to flinch.

“Does it hurt?” Odalia asked instantly, as Raikal’s hand involuntarily curled after a tender spot was touched.

“Not overly so. Not more than it normally does.”

Odalia frowned, and looked back at their hands. Raikal tried to relax them. “It’d be better if they didn’t hurt at all, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have very much say in that matter. I’m grateful, it’s just my wrists that get hurt.” Better a bruised wrist than a damaged wing. Better a damaged wing than an amputated limb. Better an amputated limb than open war on the corvi.

“Mhmmm...” Odalia returned her fingers to their palms, away from the bruises. “I know a salve that might help. If I can get the necessary ingredients from the gardens, would you want to try that? It might ease the bruising, and help prevent infection.”

“I would appreciate that, thank you, Odalia.” Raikal felt a smile forming on their lips. “But- let me help you harvest the ingredients. It’s not fair to make you go all the way out to the gardens and make the salve.”

“Oh, that’s really not necessary-” Odalia said, but she was smiling.

“I insist.” Raikal broke her off. “It’s the least I can do, to pay you back for this kindness. And besides, I have a good eye for foraging.”

They threw in a playful wink, just in hopes of making Odalia laugh.

They succeeded- and Odalia lifted up her hand to politely hide it. “Then, I’ll see you in the gardens next.” She began to get out of the water. “Best of luck to you, consort Raikal.”

“And to you, Lady Odalia.” Raikal remained in the water, and gave her a slight nod of respect. “I look forward to it.”

Even after Odalia had gone, Raikal treasured the warmth that had formed in their chest in her presence.

⛭⛯⛭

There was a misty chill to the gardens in the morning, but Raikal didn’t mind. Even if they hadn’t been bundled up, they felt warm enough inside to dispel any cold.

From the misty, melancholic violet of the sky, Raikal would’ve guessed it was an hour or so before dawn. They and Odalia had woken early to make sure they’d have enough time to gather everything they needed before morning court. That, and that in the early mornings, before the rest of the citadel woke, they could be alone together. Raikal would not complain about the opportunity to spend time away from Naiyta.

“Raikal,” Odalia asked, her voice light and swaying, “Do you have a favorite flower?”

She had her arm wrapped around his, huddled close for warmth. Even in her warm overcloak, she made the excuse to cling to them. Raikal didn’t complain.

“Ahh... hm.” Raikal scanned the misty glen they walked through. In such a dense part of the garden, they could barely see