RP:Witch Perspective

Part of the Larketian Fault Lines Arc

Summary: Valrae visits Queen Josleen to inform that that Hanna's death has made her reconsider, and she will volunteer for the witchcraft research at the Academy. The women debate Larket's approach to law enforcement and the treatment of witches.

Queen's Tea Room

Valrae has been herded into the formal waiting room by a servant whose overall demeanor suggested he would have rather been herding cats into a bath. She'd skipped any real formalities and asked to see the Queen directly, how rude, and so after a great deal of arguing and the witch's absolute refusal to take no as an answer she was deposited here. With the servant gone, the woman's shoulders lowered and her breath released. There were chairs and couches but Valrae didn't make use of them, instead she readjusted her cream colored skirt, fidgeted with her unusually subdued hair, and paced about the room pretending to study the art on the walls.

Josleen, when told that Valrae has asked for an audience with her, could not contain her surprise any easier than she could contain her tea in a teacup. The tea spilled on the saucer and splashed on her copy of The Herald, right on a classified ad that announced an opening for an assistant position at The Herald itself. The Queen waited for servants to tidy her mess, thanking them graciously but never apologizing. She closed her notebooks and hid important documents before reapplying her make-up and tidying her hair. Gigi, prince pooch, sensed his mother’s agitation and wisely curled up on his gold-threaded dog bed beside her chaise. After fifteen minutes, Valrae was shown into the Queen’s ‘office’, which broke tradition with most offices in that the focal point was not a desk but instead a chaise and coffee table. A loveseat was set across from the Queen’s chaise for guests. Josleen enjoyed this south-facing tea room, the damask walls, the tall windows, the colorful tapestries and bookshelves lined with tomes and flowers. A new portrait hung on the right-side wall from the entrance, a portrait of King Macon and Queen Josleen standing regally side by side, hands joined, and Gigi, looking trimmer in the photo than in person, lying between them at their feet, snout held high. This room was extension of her expression, for the Queen often wore, as she did now, expensive fabrics with floral prints and delicate threading. Though there was a desk wedged between bookshelves, the clutter of stationary and letters suggested it saw little use. “Valrae,” Josleen said with a cordial smile that blossomed beneath predatory eyes. It was a look spared for Valrae and few others (e.g. Lanara, also a witch). Josleen rarely held malice, but when she did, her grip was tight and endured. “What brings you here?”

Valrae, in fifteen minutes of time, was able to coil and uncoil the delicate twist of golden hair atop her head exactly six times in a fruitless effort to collect and tame and errant curl of gold. In fact, she had five minutes time before her escort even arrived to make the decision to leave the golden mass of it free of pins and restraint. So, she followed to the Queen's office and left the unwanted pins on a table as she passed. She'd gone to the trouble of wearing one of the nicest dresses she owned, a long skirted and pearl accented thing with a high lace collar and sleeves. It was cream and dusty pink and very innocently conservative. Before her nervous hands had gotten a hold of it her hair had been pulled away from her face in a pretty bun. Now it curled around her in an untamed, waist length waterfalls of wheat and honey. Her face was bare, missing the characteristically dark kohl for her eyes and the bold lip stains, so her eyes were large and unlined and dark on her face. The moment the witch stepped into the same room as Josleen her teeth were on edge, but Valrae only smiled and dipped into a low and polished bow. "Your Majesty," She said, with the urge to vomit. "I've come for a few reasons, actually," She made her tone friendly, even a little apologetic, while inside her heart burned. "I've been asked by a few members of my community," Witches, as it were. "To inquire about Marcus, the guard who attempted to intervene in Hanna's," Murder. The word hung at the tip of her tongue, tasted like accusation and demanded justice.. "Fate. Though I'm sure Larket will be affording him all the mercy her killer was shown." Her tone had reminded polite, her smile fixed, but her eyes were dark with anger she felt was unnecessary to hide. "I would also like to reconsider the answer I gave you on the matter of witch research."

Josleen scrutinized the way Valrae was dressed and labeled her, mentally, a whore. (To be fair, Valrae could have worn a sack and Josleen would have thought the same thing.) The Queen noted the way that Valrae carefully guards her words and was emboldened by it, as if a Queen needs any excuse to be emboldened further. Polite tone or not, Valrae’s criticism of King Macon’s decision to let Eirik walk was also recognized for what it was, and the Queen scowled at the witch but said nothing. Neither she nor Macon had to answer to her, a witch of all people, a homewrecker, etc. “I believe Marcus has been released, and if he hasn’t been yet, I can only assume he is receiving some care. Indeed, my husband, the King, sympathized with Marcus and Hanna’s family. Marcus will face no punishment, as he deserves none. I am not surprised you would think us callous. Your view of the world is small, ill-informed, and you cannot see the entire picture. And so I am glad you’ve reconsidered joining the research.” The Queen grins devilishly. “It would be an excellent opportunity to expand your horizons and contribute to the city you’re so quick to criticize. What made you change your mind?”

Valrae 's golden brows arched delicately. Her mouth twitched, begging to be released from it's falsely relaxed smile, but her mask held. She sat on the couch opposite of the queen without invitation, smoothing her skirts and crossing her legs. The witch laced her fingers over her knee and held on so tight her knuckles turned white. "I suppose it might be," She agreed calmly. "In comparison to a queen, whose view is wide from so high a throne, a more common woman like me might see things differently." Inside she screamed, spoiled, pampered, arrogant. "This is the very reason I've decided to reconsider, as it were. Hanna was a very dear friend. She argued for the idea of a witch registry and for research, I would like to full corporate in both efforts to honor her memory."

Josleen narrowed her gaze as Valrae described a queen’s wide view from the throne. “Mmm,” Josleen said with lips pressed, urging the witch to get on with it, no one was buying the act anyway, at least not until Valrae explained Hanna as being the reason behind her change of heart. The Queen’s expression genuinely softened, as it has whenever she thinks of Hanna whom the Queen believes to have been innocent. “Hanna sounds quite wise, and it saddens me to know that Larket lost a woman of substance. Indeed, I saw her name on the registry. She was a good Larketian.” The Queen paused, genuinely moved by Hanna’s death. She had come to terms with Eirik’s light sentencing, but the death still felt unjust and that was not lost on the Queen. Afterall, the Queen can be petty, but it is harder for her to be outright cruel or killer (intentionally). “I will write to the Academy so that they may expect you.” She paused again, and considered whether to release Valrae now or speak her mind on the subject of Hanna’s death. Her sympathy for Hanna extends to a seed of sympathy to Valrae for having lost a friend. Josleen has lost people too, and she knows how terrible it is to grieve. Valrae may be a homewrecker, but that’s hardly enough for the Queen to wish bereavement on her. “You know, there is a lot of anger over Hanna’s death, and I understand the anger, but I do not understand the direction of the anger. That day was meant to be peaceful. It was a celebration of sport, youth, charity, community. The King and I had hoped for a sunny day, for families to gather and enjoy each other’s company, for local businesses to promote their wares. That is all we wanted, and so we organized a field day.” She shrugged as if footing this bill (both for the sports complex construction and the field day) were a small thing, and, as she truly believed it was a small thing and exactly the sort of thing the Crown should be doing regularly. “What we did not want was Hanna’s death, or anyone’s death. Our plan for a peaceful day was disrupted by your kind, witches. They burned effigies of the King and I, but indeed no one should die for that affront, but the protest and the chanting and the shoving started a riot. They started a riot, didn’t they?” In truth, Macon’s secret rage aura played an outsized role in stoking that riot, but in Josleen’s view, Macon would not have been enraged that day were it not for the protestors. They were still responsible. “They started a riot. The King and I and innocent Larketians were put in harm’s way, and the guards and our allies did what they have been trained to do. They protected Larket’s people and rulers, and they contained the riot. No one wanted to kill anyone that day, but something snapped, something broke, and it is regrettable. Hanna was a good, good Larketian,” the Queen repeated, frowning in genuine sympathy for the late woman. “When I look at her death, then follow backwards the way the day unfolded, I see the protestors at fault for her death. They disrupted the peace, they created the conditions under which violence exploded and claimed a life. If you truly want to honor Hanna’s memory, then you would help us find who burned those effigies, who led the protest, who truly killed Hanna by fostering violence.”

Valrae is holding so tightly to her idea of Josleen, one clouded by her hatred, that seeing her show what could be genuine care for her lost friend sends her world sliding into a small tilt. The lens of animosity that altered her vision was threatening to shift and it made her uncomfortable. Her carefully placed smile had slipped into an inexpressive line. There was a moment of charged silence, one the witch thought she might use to excuse herself, but the Queen decided to share. Her words made the world snap back into sense. There it was, the holier-than-tho-queen, ready to deflect blame on those deemed lesser. "If I may," She started, waited to expand the proper amount of time instead of shoving her words at Josleen as her secret heart wished. "I would have to disagree. Not that I support the actions of whoever burned the effigies," She did, because those were /her/ actions. "But I think that your perception is a little shallow - no offense intended, obviously. The atmosphere in Larket is practically hostile for witches. People are pointing their fingers our way for every little incident, from the weather..." Like earthquakes. "To warts! And the crown seems to be... Well, apathetic at best. I don't mean that as a criticism," Yes, she did. "Just a perception that I share with a majority of my people. Again, I'm not saying causing a riot and burning things is the answer here but I do understand the frustration. Do you honestly believe Hanna would have met the same fate if she were anything other than witch? She put her hands up in surrender, from what I've been told, and this was seen as an act of violence somehow? Fear and rage have bred a hatred for witches in Larket, and hatred is what killed Hanna."

Josleen shook her head in disagreement. The slights and insults in Valrae’s argument were ignored in the pursuit of debate and schooling this blonde bimbo. Who is she anyway? A nail salon worker who wet Hudson’s whistle? Puh-lease. Before Josleen was Queen she was a Thane and served on war councils and ran battlefield medical wards. Perhaps her views had become more hawkish in a way that Josleen herself had not yet realized. “Asking witches to report themselves so we have an idea of who can do what in our city is hardly persecution. It’s a matter of security. Witches have powers, that is a fact. I am not accusing all witches of having the will to use their powers for evil, but when a witch does commit an atrocity, I sure do want the guards to know whose doors to knock on. That’s just sensible.” So sensible she did not give Valrae a chance to refute that. “And all evidence does point to witches having caused the earthquake, for Sven’s sake! That’s a fact! And if the people have grown wary and suspicious of witches, if that is the case, then how does turning beautiful family events into a riot help reverse the image of witches as never-do-wells? How does burning effigies and disrupting a children’s game of rugby prove that witches are patriots and gentle in nature? If witches wanted to prove themselves allies, they’d work with the Crown to catch the witches who caused the earthquake, not burn effigies of us.” She clucked her tongue in indignation.

Valrae 's own past was more humble and perhaps arguably more morally questionable. She'd been firmly fixed in the citizen status, often one in the dregs of poverty, all of her life and was even content to be. But those humble roots were exactly what forced her into action now, in a home that was only recently made her own. It was time people of privilege stopped punching down, so to speak. It was strange though, Cenril had been her home from birth but she'd never been so politically active, had never been driven to wedge herself in between gang quarrels and corruption. Even with her hometown's obvious inclination to seediness and criminal activity, Larket felt more sinister and dangerous. Here, you smiled and took tea with your enemy. "Perhaps those witches don't desire to prove themselves allies," This was said with a shrug. "Again, I don't presume to know what could have been going through their minds," She could, because why wouldn't she know what was going on in her own mind? "Witches are as much a threat to Larket's general well-being as any one person or group of people could be, yet somehow we have been singled out. Somehow, Larket has managed to thrive for years with it's community of witches, one of the largest I've seen in fact, without animosity or violence or death. I think it's concerning that suddenly, one instance and a little circumstantial evidence could manage to stir up such unrest. My people feel they are being unfairly persecuted and are acting however they see fit. It's a general rule amoung ourselves not to judge," She punctuates this with another lift of her shoulders. "But I digress. Hanna's death, as I've said, touched a nerve in me. I usually like to keep my nose out of politics, but she thought the best way to combat the sudden rise of anti-witch sentiment would be to bring a bit more transparency into our practices... And you seem to share that opinion. I'm willing to try. For my people."

Josleen shrugged disinterestedly to Valrae’s counter argument that Larket always contained witches. The Queen had grown bored of this debate, and had the privilege to end it whenever she well pleased. “The earthquake is one of the greatest catastrophes in Larket’s history, claiming more lives than any other disaster in recent memory, if ever, and it’s linked to witch activity with strong evidence. The Guard must respond to the facts on the ground. Their mission is the city’s safety, and debating the ethics of a damn list of names—a list!—is not something the Crown has the time for. There could be another attack around the corner, and the King is doing everything he can to prevent it. Hanna understood that, and I am glad you’re willing to come around on that front. I’ll write to the Academy. If that is all...”

Valrae, with herculean effort, tilts her lips into a polite smile. "Yes, I suppose it is." She stands, brushing her skirts before dipping into another bow. "I appreciate your willingness to see me on such short notice, your highness." With that she turned, someone was already waiting to escort her out. The witch stopped at door, turned just enough to say, "It is a shame about those effigies though, I didn't get to see them myself but someone mentioned how life-like and accurate they seemed."

Josleen pulled a notebook off the table and opened it in her lap as Valrae turned to leave. Then the witch stopped, and in her anger over played her hand a little. The Queen glared up at Valrae through her lashes without lifting her head. The effigies’ caricature proportions with satirical commentary was no secret, and thus the insult was understood for what it was, but in addition to that there was gloating in Valrae’s insult. Either she knew something, or she sympathized with the protestors even more than she had let on in this meeting, and what more, she clearly did see it and was there (so was most of Larket), and yet wanted to deny her attendance to a public event at which her attendance wouldn’t have been suspect. Hmmm. Perhaps Valrae should pick up a tail…just in case. “Says a lot about the company you keep…” Josleen replied as she glanced down at her notebook again. Birds of a feather, Valrae; the Queen sees you.