#narla

Madena is saying nothing, stone-faced, and it occurs to Narla that they are her mother's royal advisor for a reason, and that reason is not simply because they can cut through tension like a knife. Right now, the advisor’s brown eyes are absolutely stormy, flashing an angry gold, and their mouth is thinned into a straight, terse line. Their tan face is flushed in agitation, threads of midnight-colored hair fluttering around it. The air around them crackles dangerously. Did the wind pick up? Narla shudders.

Dinah, across the conference table, smiles as though she hadn't just threatened the crown princess of the kingdom that she was visiting-- hadn't just threatened Narla. She gives little reaction to Madena's change in demeanor, almost as though it was expected. Though, Narla thinks, that couldn't be. She, herself, didn't see the change coming.

“There is no reason to feel threatened, here. I simply wanted to offer...ideas that may be of assistance,” Dinah says it so innocuously, dark hair falling to the side as she tilts her head, and yet Madena's face darkens monumentally.

“You are no ruler, Dinah; you're not even a leader. Your words have little to no power, here, and you would do well to remember that.” They stand, snarling, “You do not threaten Princess Narla. Not when you have originated from the equivalent of a galaxial garbage deposit.”

“You,” they continue, and Narla's head is spinning because they've suddenly ended up right in front of Dinah, eyes glowing a full, smoldering gold, “will not manipulate this kingdom into a war for a speck in the woods that you've put yourself into. No.”

“M-Madena,” Narla squeaks out before clearing her throat. She knows that her eyes are impossibly wide. “Come back over here. I pledged to hear everyone out, and D-Dinah...is no exception.”

Dinah shakes her head before standing, “It's of no circumstance, Princess Narla. I should not have used my words in such a manner. Your advisor-- Madena-- was correct in putting me in my place. They have good sense.”

Even still, she smiled knowingly, almost smugly. It unnerved Narla.

“Though, I’m unsure of how you learned about my...humble origins, advisor. I had no clue that there was an oracle that could look back in time instead of ahead of it. I learn new things, every day, it seems. Quite impressed.”

Narla simply clears her throat, again, looking away. There's a swoop in her stomach, and she doesn't know why, but Dinah having this information makes her feel incredibly on edge.

Madena wrinkles their nose before all traces of anger flow out of them, and they return to the princess’s side fairly quickly. If they share Narla's sentiments, they show no sign of it. “Great. Let's finish this, huh?”

“R-right.” Her tiny, black hands shake minutely, and she takes a second to quell the anxiety that is suddenly churning in her gut, “Dinah. I appreciate you bringing your issues to my attention, but I can't just-- I-- the majority comes, first. I have to stabilize the rest of my kingdom, and then I'll create a way for you and everyone around you to...live and breathe easier. I just need time. I'm new to-- to all of this.”

“Of course,” Dinah stands and bows, “I expect nothing less. Thank you for hearing me out.”

She exhales calmly and goes to exit the room, brushing against Madena's shoulder. Madena starts to look miffed, once more, hands twitching at their sides, but before they can speak (or act) on their agitation, Dinah turns back to Narla.

“Princess?”

Narla blinks at her, “Yes?”

“Make sure that you do not look down or underestimate that people who work under you. Each one of them could have characteristics that you've never seen before.”

Without further ado, she strolls unhurriedly out of the door.

“Well,” Madena says, crossing their arms, “that went horribly. Pretty sure she'll be starting some sort of revolt in a few weeks.”

Narla groans, “We definitely said the wrong things.”

“Most revolutions happen when the voices of the minority are ignored,” Madena agrees, eyebrows furrowed, “but I feel as though she has something under her sleeves.”

“Up her sleeves,” Narla corrects.

“That's what I meant.”

“Of course, Madena,” Narla chuckles slightly before sobering up. “What-- why did you get so upset, earlier? I've been threatened, before, you know.”

Madena shrugs, and resolutely looks away.

“Madena.”

“Look, I've just-- I've seen her before. Not--” they pause, nose twitching, “--not physically, but in one of my...flashbacks? Premonitions? She's not here to be philanthropic or a martyr or to help people. She just has...a really mean, chaotic energy?”

At Narla bewildered look, they exhale forcefully and begin to pace, fluctuating between picking at their palms and wringing their hands, “I can't-- I can't explain it, Narla, but I-- I just--”

Narla grabs their hands gently, “Hey.”

Madena flinches slightly, and a flash of lightning passes through their conjoined hands. Narla’s eye twitches at the shock, but she appears otherwise unbothered, letting go of Madena’s hands with a timid apology. They slump against her, “I don’t know! I don’t know. Maybe I just overreacted. It just-- something she said set me off, and I don’t know when or why it did. I'm sorry.”

“If it set you off, then something is...very wrong. You don't have to be sorry.” Narla rubs her thumbs along Madena’s knuckles. “Maybe we should sleep on it and talk to Hughes about it, tomorrow?”

They sigh, “I feel like that's a bad idea, but yeah. Okay.”

Narla nods solemnly, pulling them out of the room, “I really fucking hope that you're wrong about it being a shit idea, but you rarely ever are.”

“Watch your fucking language, kid.”