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*
For such a small demand, it takes far longer than necessary.
Kushana overhears the Valley of the Wind's children begging a softly spoken Nausicaä to not become separated from them—please don't go! please don't leave us, Princess!—and Mito yelling harsh threats at the Torumekian guards shoving a grim but pleasant-faced Nausicaä forward.
Kushana's temporary chambers, aboard on her warship, holds a warmly lit atmosphere.
"Nausicaä," Kushana murmurs as a greeting, resting her hand on the gilded pommel of her sword.
She observes Nausicaä stiffly bowing her head, Nausicaä's hands flattening at her sides.
"Your Highness."
Ah. That's interesting.
It is true that her soldiers are, in part, an extension of Kushana and any of the royal orders she makes…
Understandingly, it means Kushana holds the responsibility for King Jihl's death. Whether or not it is deemed a murder. She witnessed Nausicaä's rage then, uncontrollable as a wildfire… swift as poisonous gas… explosive as a Pejitei bomb hitting dead-center to the target…
A lick of irresistible heat bloomed through Kushana's body. She hadn't felt the urge to lie with someone so strongly in years.
Yes, a true warrior lives in the Valley's midst…
(Do they even comprehend the power of Nausicaä's beauty and bloodlust? Does Nausicaä herself?)
"It seems your people love you dearly, Princess." Kushana makes an amused noise with closed lips. She paces around a curious but cautious Nausicaä, tapping her gilded-armor fingers. "They behave as if you were being sent to an execution…"
"Then why have I come here?
"I require a moment of your assistance… if it's not too troubling. I need my neck-armor fastened, as well as the torso."
Nausicaä tilts her head in a 'as you wish' gesture, removing her gloves with a polite air, draping them onto a table. Ever accommodating to friend and foe alike, isn't she? Not at all like a princess, a self-satisfied Kushana thinks. Her lips curl up.
She has no inclination to humiliate Nausicaä, as a fellow princess… only to understand what makes her her.
"Teto," Nausicaä mumbles, waiting for her fox-squirrel to climb down her arm, settling itself onto the glove-fabric and nesting.
He chitters softly.
Nausicaä's fingers rest to Kushana's armored collar.
"May I ask if this is Xerconian ceramic, Your Highness?"
"It is not."
"I've never felt anything so light." Nausicaä examines the strap-work, loosening it. "I wonder how a Ohmu shell would hold up."
Kushana smirks, letting out a breathy chuckle. She delights in Nausicaä's face warming.
"Fairly well… in my experience…"
Truthfully, she fears her armor failing. Kushana wonders if it is the only thing keeping her together, or perhaps her spite. There is much to fear, to dread and to mourn, in a world torn and ravaged by the insects. They need to burn. She needs revenge.
Nausicaä… this dear and sweet girl named Nausicaä… her heart and her life's teachings comes from the way of wind and water.
To be fluid, to be fantastical and free of expectations…
It is not fire.
It is not in Kushana's nature.
It will not claim the seemingly lifelong victory that Kushana so desires.
Nausicaä concentrates on the neck-straps, tracing her fingertips on the ridges, before bringing her arms around Kushana's middle. While feeling over the plates of gilded, heavy armor, Nausicaä's forehead bumps against Kushana's sharply defined jaw.
"Oh—oh." Nausicaä rubs herself there, squinting her eyes and straightening. Their mouths hover. "Forgive me."
"There's nothing to forgive, I can assure you," Kushana informs her, but not without a tiny, even-more-amused smirk.
What a delight… oh, if it were such a possibly…
She would invite Nausicaä to dine with her, alone, alone with her… carefully undress Nausicaä… expose her vulnerabilities and whims… kiss along the length of her legs, up her thighs, over Nausicaä's trembling, bare cunt and spread her wide-open… drip her dry… teach her how to appreciate each sensation born of Kushana's face on her nethers… consume her warmth, her appetites, Nausicaä's spiritual awakening in youth and flesh…
"Do you believe we could be friends, Nausicaä?"
Nausicaä's inhale goes shuddery.
"Maybe," she says, tightening the last piece of strap-work and drifting away. "I should go. The villagers need to know I'm okay."
Kushana nods, rapping her knuckles on the wall, signaling her guards.
They enter without a word.
"Pleasant dreams," Kushana murmurs, eyeing an awkwardly bowing Nausicaä being escorted out. Her cheeks a telltale red. Kushana remains standing where she is, contemplating her decisions, as Kuratowa pokes his head in, also contemplating.
"… Do you plan on seducing with another innocent princess?"
"She's different," Kushana insists, meaning every syllable. Her voice carries an unusual gentleness. Her heart pounds quick.
"You favor her, Your Highness?"
"I do."
"Hhm, hm," Kuratowa grunts, sighing in acceptance. "That's certainly a first."
*