One would expect that if they had their enemies backed against a wall in desperate need of relief, they would be a bit more poignant about attending negotiations between themselves and the enemy forces on time, but alas, here General Denali was in his tent tapping his feet on the ground and rolling an arrow between his fingers, careful not to break the shake wooden. Six of his best and brightest men, all dressed in their finest armor, stood in the tent with him, some pacing back and forth while others sharpened and polished their weapons, ready to finish the conquest of Empire City.
Remaining patient despite the enemy negotiators absence was already difficult for Denali and it was even harder to convince his men to sit still and wait. Each of them was hungry, not for their thinly stretched rations but rather for a taste of Emperor McKinnley’s blood for what he did to their home territory of Highland. The imperial conquerors that had oppressed them for generations were like injured seals struggle to swim as they bleed into the water, attracting dangerous predators ready to pounce on the opportunity. Every moment wasted waiting was seen as a moment that gave Empire City more time to prepare against the siege of their city.
Denali, however, insisted on waiting a bit longer. He may have been one of the toughest mountains in all of Highland but he was meticulous and patient, hence how he managed to get so far. Empire City was cut off from the rest of the territories; Highland, Midland, Frontierland, Coastland, and each of the colonies worked together to take them down and win their independence. The city was not expected to hold out much longer. The time they were taking was likely to formulate some desperate plan but time was not actually on their side; they too were running out of supplies and risked a mass mutiny if they hold out for much longer without doing anything. Denali would soon come to realize that I was right about the destination.
“General, the scouts have spotted a process carrying white flags headed for our camp,” said a messenger at the entrance to my tent.
“Coming from Empire City, Foraker?” I asked, looking forward to the end of my wait.
“Yes, General,” replied Foraker excitedly; he too was excited.
“Finally,” I grumbled. “Send them straight here.
The messenger left and I awaited the Arrival of the negotiator. The rest of my men inside the tent seemed to be reinvigorated, telling jokes about the way they would take their revenge on Empire City if they were to sue for peace. I myself, as the commander of the siege, did not join in and remained focused on getting there in the first place.
“I can’t wait to burn down the city just as they did my hometown when we resisted their occupation!” seen Elbert as he sharpened his sword.
“I’ll race the rest of you to the Empire’s gold reserves!” guffawed Ranier as he examined his bow for wear and tear.
“You better save somefor the people they took it all from,” chastized Williamson, pointing an arrow at Ranier’s head,
“I, for one, can’t wait for the war to be over so we can return to the mountains and celebrate!” chimed Teton happily as he looked between the flaps of my tent.
“Perhaps the rest of you could learn from Teton’s example,” said Denali. “Let go of your fury and lust for revenge after the war is over so that we can return home and live in peace.”
The rest of the soldiers nodded in agreement; Denali was as wise and focused as ever.
About an hour after they were spotted, the process arrived. Although Emperor McKinnely did not send a sagely, educated negotiate like Denali had expected nor did he send talents of gold to buy me off. Instead, he sent his daughter, Princess Dahlia and about a dozen bodyguards riding the finest-bred horses in the world (by the Midlanders of course before being taken). Dahlia was supposedly the most beautiful woman in the entire empire; notin Denali’s opinion of course, he thought that Highlander women were far superior, unlike this useless twig before him. Her skinny body was dressed in a long, white, frilly, and conservative dress that covered every inch of her except for her face and fancy slippers. Her sharp cheesebones, jawline, toplofty demeanor, and silvery hair tied in a bun gave her the look of a young and beautiful, but strict and discipline scion of a nobleman, Upon seeing her, Denali did not greet her and basketball in her renowed beauty like most men do. Instead, he just laughed and laughed.
“He sent you?” he chuckled dismissively at Dahlia. “What kind of game is he trying to play? Have I failed to make it clear that I hate games?”
“I came of my own according to speak with you myself,” she replied calmly. “My father has been foolish in handling this war and I am going to end it.”
“I see, just committing a little bit of treasure,” he mocked as his men tried to stifle their laughter; Dahlia’s guardsmen tried to stare them down but failed to scare even one.
“I believe that we can reach a deal and end this war without him,” she reassured Denali without reacting to his assertion.
“Is that so?” he grew. “I will not agree to anything non-binding so you had better go fetch a real diplomat with your father’s seal.”
“Or better yet, just bring us his head instead,” mumbled Foraker, drawing snickers from the others.
“If I could just have a private conversation with you,” she asked politely. “Please?”
That last “please” sounded more like a whimper. Denali could smell the destination from her.
“All of you, step out,” Denali ordered.
“We were thinking about having a little stroll anyway,” quipped Blackburn as he stared down an Empire City guardsman and stepped out. The guardsman returned the glare but failed to intimidate him; he shivered as he tried to pull from his empty confidence reserves. The Highlanders and Dahlia’s enourage followed him outof the tent and we were alone.
“What are you trying to do?” Denali demanded.
Dahlia’s lip quivered for a moment as if she were trying to keep her facetious regular demeanor together with rotting wicker.
“I- um,” she started, seemingly at a loss for words. “I know what you want.”
“Do you know?” Denali said unamused.
“Yes and I can help you get it, I promise,” she continued, her voice cracking ever-so-slightly as the pressure on her seemed to be increasing. “I know you want independence for Highland-“
“And all of the nations of The Empire,” Denali added, remembering his promise to his allies. “That includes reinstalling Chief Ohio of the Midlanders, Queen Atlantica of the Coastlanders, and Saint Diego of Frontierlanders.”
“Yes and I can get you that,” she said.
“Your father said he would rather die than allow the breakup of The Empire,” Denali reminded her. “Thus why we are here, to hold him to his promise by killing him.”
“We can do this without bloodshed,” she insisted with wavering confidence.
“The time for talks ended when Ambassador Rose was executed for tareason without a trial,” snarled Denali, quickly growing impatient with Dahlia. “I promised her family your father’s head and I plan to uphold that promise.”
“We can do this another way and still bring peace to her family,” Dahlia pleased Calmly.
“Then what is it?” snapped Denali. “What could you possibly say that could stop us from clamping down on Empire City and cleaning these lands of your kind?”
At first, Dahlia stood still and silent, apparently fighting back tears. After about seven seconds of pausing, she began unfastening her dress and it was then clear to Denali what she was here to do. For a moment, he was dumbfounded, unable to tell if he should have been offended or not. She removed her slippers and began to slip her skinny body out of her many layers of clothing. She even undid the pin in her shining hair and let her silvery locks fall down to her wait. Her slippers, dress, jewelry, and accessories were now stacked nearby in a pile behind her as she stood in front of me naked.
At first, Denali was not sure what to think, that was until he noticed a most peculiar detail about Princess Dahlia; on her belly was a tattoo of a mountain topped with a snowy peak. Behind the peak was the morning sun, covered like a cake with a single slice removed; it was clear that she had done her research, she was adorned with the Highlander symbol for fertility.
“Are you truly here to offer up yourself?” he sneered. “How pathetic.”
“I-I’m sure that if you were to take me as a bride, my father would be more willing to capitulate,” she stammered, her confidence falsertering now that she was naked.
In addition to her nervousness, she seemed rather confused that Denali did not immediately say yes. Denali looked her up and down, trying to hide any arousal that arose as he examined her. At first, his eyes were locked on the tattoo on her belly, quite the show of dedication to her plan; he wasn’t sure whether or not to be offended or flattered. However, as soon as his eyes moved up past her breasts, he had to suppress his rage lest he break something valuable. She had nearly the exact same face as McKinnley; She had the same narrow, pointed nose, thick and perfectly trimmed eyes, hazel, almond-shaped eyes, and even the slight cleft on her chin.
“You would make a terrible bride,” he snarled.
“I don’t agree,” she replied, still fighting to keep her poise. “I can promise you that not only will you get your nation but I will serve you dutifully. I will bear you as many children as you desire. I know Highlander men have voracious sexual appetites, I would be more than capab-“
“Excuse me?” Denali interrupted, making up his mind whether or not he was offended. “Voracious sexual appetites?”
He angrily rose to my feet and started to approach Dahlia. Her eyes bulged in fear as the realization that she fucked up hit her like an out-of-control chariot.
“Let me tell you something about Highland,” he grew in her face. “Our people are strong, proud, hardy, and independent, untethered by Empire City’s restrictions on the human spirit. We men work tirelessly in the farming terraces and on the hunt to keep our children and their mothers fed and warm through the winter. We are not mindless, horny savages that bend at the knee at the first scent of womanhood. Your father’s failure to see that was just a single grape amongst a hundred-man feast!”
“Please, I’m sorry- I didn’t mean- I don’t-” Dahlia stammered as she tried to retain her composition. “Please, I can help you have anything you want, you can have gold, land, anything.”
“What I want is your father’s head on a pike and Empire City burnt to ashes,” Denali snarled, disregarding his earlier encouragement of peace. “May I add that you are the worst negotiator ever?”
“Please just takeme,” she begged as she fell to her knees and clutched Denali’s legs in a desperate Hail Mary attempt to assume his fury and save her people. “My father is arrogant and stupid and he isn’t going to capitulate unless you agree, you’re going to kill hundreds of thousands on both sides if you continue with the siege!”
“That doesn’t sound like my problem,” Denali dismissed cruelly as he stepped backward. Dahlia collapsed to the ground without his legs to support her.
“Please,” she sobbed, her emotions bursting through her dam of stoicism. “I’ll do whatever you want me to do and I promise my father will finally give Highland its independence.”
Denali wanted nothing more than just to kick her out and send her back to Empire City without her clothes yet a small but swelling feeling of pity held him back from doing so. After all, she was right about the war, this was her father’s fault for failing to grant Highland independence despite the constantly mounting humiliations suffered on the battlefield. Additionally, the embarrassment of taking his daughter as a trophy has to force a mass mutiny within the enemy ranks before Denali would have to sacrifice the lives of thousands of Highlanders taking the city.
“Urgh, fine then,” he grunted with little excitement. “I’ll take you as a wife.”
Denali justified his decision in his head thinking about the ramifications of his actions, However, a small part of his brain was quite focused on the Highlander fertility tattoo.
Dahlia stopped sobbing and picked her head up off the ground. She looked at Denali with her swollen, tearful eyes and gulped.
“Thank you,” she mewled in relief; her people were saved from her father’s stupidity.
“But first, we are going to negotiate surrender,” he warned her. “And I don’t think you’re going to like that much.”
Dahlia said nothing, only nodding obediently; she knew what little power she had after throwing it all away.
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