Weight of the Crown | Shifting Sands

He wasn't wrong. She was naive, indeed, and her idea, however clever it may have sounded in her mind would be no simple task to carry out. She was, in essence, looking to betray a man who had the power to ruin everything she held dear... the power to start a war with her homeland, and she needed to exercise more than caution and good judgment. But then... that was why she had come to Eztla in the first place.

"Very well. But you must promise me you will be careful, Etta. I would never forgive myself if anything were to happen to you, because of me." Pausing, she glanced down again, her eyes focused on Hama, falling briefly distant as she considered for a moment what a life without him might be like... And for as short a time as she had known him, it seemed impossible.

"...And you mustn't tell him. I mean it. Not a word breathed about this. He... he is good and noble, and he will try his hardest to stop me. And I cannot let him. It's come to far as it is, and I will not ruin what he's worked so hard for. Not for anything..."
 
The big gambler looked down at his feet, nodding slightly as he thought of the ramifications of her request.

"I shall do my best. I like my neck how it is - whole and unbroken," Etzla laughed darkly, glancing back at the racers that were prepping. Ropes were tossed down from platforms, men shouting to each other. Hama was stretching a bit at his starting spot.

"No, I shall not tell him. His honor will be the death of him. We'll have to be very careful. He always seems to be able to sniff out a conspiracy somewhere," Etzla ruefully warned. "Ah! Look. Flag's up. Means this is a - I don't know what you'd call it. There'll be a caveat to the game."

Indeed, a banner was flying from a platform, colored green and gold. Then another fell, this one crimson. Etzla's eyebrows rose.

"Oh."
 
She was glad when there were no arguments to either of her requests. A part of her had been certain he would feel wrong about keeping things from his brother, but he seemed to understand the tender nature of all she was doing, as well as Hama's penchant for getting himself into trouble to get others out of it. Maybe in a way she was doing the same, but it made sense that she should make the deal with his grandfather when it was Hama's life on the line.

For all her dramatics, Hama ruining his career, or worse, risking his life, simply to save her from an unhappy union with the Crown Prince wasn't something she was willing to endeavor towards... and Etzla seemed to agree.

When he turned to the climbers again, she watched his reaction and turning, her own eyes shifted between the flags and Hama's brother, concern lacing her expression, "What is it? What does that mean?"
 
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Etzla's expression seemed stuck between amused and worried. He stroked the short, but thick carpet of a beard he sported, staring at his younger half-brother. Well, Hama? You always did love challenges like these. Torn from his thoughts, he looked down to Ros, realizing too late that she had no idea what was going on.

"That is the Brawl banner. The climbers have free reign to pull, kick, punch, or drag other climbers down. In other words, it'll be a free-for-all. Ah, Hama - born under the Hand of the Thief, the most inauspicious of the auspicious signs," Etzla chuckled. "Don't worry, they'll still climb with ropes, and they have a weight on the end to give them a bit of help. But the competition will certainly be fierce."

That statement seemed an understatement. In the amateur section, there were four or five other climbers, and out of them, Hama was the second smallest, only surpassing a weedy man with thick legs and a broken nose. Suddenly, as if on cue, all climbers took their positions on the wall, one foot and two hands on a crack, crevice, or knob, before a horn blew.

Like that, they were off.
 
"The what??" Rosleigh's expression shifted, her eyes widening as she leaned slightly over the banister to see what was happening.

She had put Hama up to this, put him in danger after all, and certainly, he had no real call to do it, but if she hasn't pushed... She only did it because she was sure he would win. Because she was sure he would be safe when he did...

As the climbers began, her hand shot out and she gripped Etzla's arm like a vice, "Oh dear God... Be safe. Be safe..."
 
"Princess, have a little faith!" Etzla professed. "After all, you're the one who put him up to all this, aren't you? Oh, don't give me that look, he'll be fine! People don't usually die in these bouts, even if they get a knock or two. And Hama is a doctor, who better to cure him but himself?"

Indeed, that seemed to be the case on the wall. The minute the starting horn was blown, the seemingly tiny doctor had already pulled up to second place. Two of the burliest were shoving each other and swinging their feet into their opponent's sides, while another had jumped aboard the back of a different climber to catapult up towards Hama, who was rocketing straight up the wall just behind the smallest man who was in the lead. They were already halfway up the wall, less than a minute having elapsed.

The crowd was going wild as one man let go of the wall, swinging away on his rope, and a referee shook a white stick at him.

"That indicates his expulsion from the race. You have to keep something on the wall. You completely swing off, and you're out of bounds," Etzla explained as he balled up his fists in excitement. "Look at him go! Oh - someone's got him by the pants!"

Hama's pursuer indeed had managed to grab a hold of Hama's belt loop, trying to tug the wiry little youth down, and Hama seemed stuck in place, as the fourth man began to make his way towards the two battling it out. And ahead, the smallest was getting awfully close to the bell....
 
She watched, transfixed, as the chaos began to unfold, heart pounding in an odd mingling of fear and excitement. It was a side to Hama she had not seen before, and she would have been lying if she'd said there wasn't something greatly appealing to it... But each second that ticked by, she could feel her chest tightening with a gripping worry.

The plan she had in mind went entirely to the wayside. Win or lose, her greatest concern was now that Hama wasn't injured, or worse, because she had convinced him it was a good idea to compete.

Giving a gasp as Hama was snagged by the climber beneath him, Rosleigh pushed towards the edge of the banister, "Kick in his teeth and climb, Hama!" She found herself shouting, before color bloomed in her cheeks and she pulled back.

"Sorry..." She mumbled, with a small, sheepish smile.
 
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Etzla raucously laughed as he banged the balustrade, looking back to his younger brother, shouting in concert with the princess, "DO IT, HAMA! PUT THAT FOOT THROUGH HIS SKULL!"

Perhaps it was unfair that he was rooting so blatantly for his younger brother to win the amateur round, but he had always enjoyed seeing the younger man compete, especially in the one thing he loved so dearly. When he would watch Hama as a favor to Marza - she was sick even by the time he was ten - Hama had always been fascinated with the mesa, the walls, and climbing. As a joke, he'd nicknamed Hama 'monkey', a name he didn't much care for now that he was grown, but Etzla still ribbed about it.

"Look! The lead's got a problem, it seems! Hama's got a chance!" Etzla exclaimed with excitement.

The lead climber, the smallest of them all, had his foot stuck in a crevasse, desperately trying to yank it out. Hama, on the other hand, was doing his best not to fall into the grasp of his two pursuers, having managed to bend backwards the finger that had hung to his belt loop. The doctor was doing his best not to resort to violence, as he managed to pull his feet and legs up and away from his pursuers at a dangerously impressive angle, but that tactic would not work for long, as he was having a hard time getting any traction. His eyes darted upwards as he flung his head back to see where his competition was - and he had an idea.

"What is he up to...?" Etzla wondered out loud as Hama began to climb - not up, but out, into the professional arena. The other two hesitated to follow, the professional climbers seriously eyeing the young man as he began to instead reach into their field, and Etzla slammed his fist into his palm.

"He's going to ring their bell! He's closer to it than his own! It'll still count!"
 
Rosleigh's eyes widened as she watched Hama change course. He wasn't just good, he was wonderful, and a thrill coursed through her as she leaned in expectation, awaiting the next move from the young doctor.

"He's brilliant..." She breathed, and a smile spread to her lips, "He's absolutely brilliant!"

She had given him her token and win or lose she would have been proud to see him wear it... But there was an undeniable exhilaration in seeing him so close to victory, the yellow ribbon on his wrist fluttering.

"Come on, Hama. Just a little further..."
 
It seemed that the stars under which Hama had been born were to act upon him once again. As he scrambled upwards, a foot from one of the professionals collided with his ribs, sending him careening back into the amateur field. He was far above the others, ahead of even the former leader of the pack, but now he hung to the rock wall, his head leaned against the stone as he huddled around the side that had been brutally hit. The professionals were crossing over into the amateur territory as they themselves tried to get away from their competitors.

Etzla winced as he watched Hama stretch out a hand - only to recoil back and hug his side with that arm.

"He might have broken something. That looked like it hurt. He gambled, and it didn't pay off.... well, not yet, anyways," Etzla murmured as the crowd below were whipped into a frenzy over the match. The former leader was gaining now that he'd got his foot unstuck, but Hama himself was but a mere three feet away from the bell over his head. He'd managed to get so far already, but it seemed that it was not quite enough. Etzla's broad eyebrows drew together as he stared up at the young man. He was a tenacious little fellow, but he'd never been able to handle pain quite as well as other boys, having shirked off the usual roughhousing young men did to toughen up to a thick skin.

Besides that, the former leader of the pack was now level with the young man's feet, and the other two not far behind. If he did not move now, it was likely he would only win second place, if that. Hama curled his feet closer to him, almost as if he were in a fetal position against the rock wall...

Then, suddenly, Hama burst forward and up, practically leap-frogging, as he stretched his whole body up in a single motion and hit the bell, swinging backwards and away. The crowd burst into cheers and boos, Etzla letting out a triumphant yell as he pumped his fists. The young man hung from the rope as he swayed in his leather harness, sweating heavily but victorious, and he waved a hand towards Ros with the ribbon flying around his wrist.
 
Rosleigh, for all her reserved nature had never been so anxious, and worry creased her brow as she watched Hama struggle, fury at the brutal hit mingling with her concern.

When he finally leapt forward and the sound of the bell resonated through the field, Rosleigh cried out, a broad stroke of relief washing over her, before she turned, launching to hug Etlzi, "He did it! Etta! He won!"
 
Etzla hugged her back with a great guffaw, lifting her off her feet in elation.

"Come on! We've got to congratulate him! Ah, I knew coming here was a good idea," Etzla gushed as he dragged the young woman down the stairs out of the lounge, weaving through the crowd like a bull through a flock of goats. Ahead of them, Hama was being lowered to the ground slowly, his side heavily bruised though he had a wearily excited look on his face. Once down to the ground, Hama limped out of the harness while the officiators raised one of his hands to officiate his win. The other contestants shrugged, one of them looking particularly sour, though as they approached, the smallest man clapped Hama on the back.

"W-well you made a good bet, princess," Hama assured, wiping his face with the back of his hand. "Though honestly I almost wish I had gone into one of your tourneys instead."

He winced as he gestured to his side.
 
As Rosleigh caught up behind Etzla, who, with his stride moved faster than she ever could, she came around the larger man and with every ounce of the balled up energy she possessed, her excitement roiling and springing like a snake, she threw herself forward and wrapped her arms around Hama's shoulders, utterly and intentionally ignorant to sweat and grime and, frankly, bruised or broken ribs, or propriety and rules. It was a pride she had no idea she was capable of feeling, and she couldn't, in that moment, care about anything more.

When she stepped back, it was with a bright smile, and gesturing to the yellow ribbon, her smile warmed, "I had no doubt, Hama... I knew you wouldn't let me down." Biting her lip, she looked to his side then and grimaced softly, "OH! Oh, I'm so sorry. I completely forgot. Ooh..." Her concern shifted into a soft laugh, not mocking, but nevertheless amused, as she shook her head, "Come on... Let's get you sitting, hmm?"
 
Hama, in his adrenaline-drunk and slightly euphoric state, returned Ros' hug, the crowd around them gasping slightly at the blatant display of affection from someone who most definitely was not a relative of the young victor. However, for once, it seemed that Hama didn't really care, just glad to feel the warmth and solidity of the girl before him. Granted, after that initial high, he was quickly brought back to earth as his ribs protested, and he hissed in pain as the agony hit him full-force. Ros seemed to have noticed it as well, and Etzla led them back and away from the dais, gesturing for them to follow him. Hama leaned on Ros fully, limping a little bit as they forced their way through the crowd, people touching Hama almost feverishly, as if his good fortune and health were somehow contagious, and if they could just gather even his sweat on their fingertips, they would catch a bit of that luck.

Once up the stairs again, Etzla took them to a different room off the rooftop lounge, an enclosed space that sported much the same furniture and accoutrements, minus the noise and the prying eyes. Hama sat down gingerly on a sofa, squeezing his eyes shut as he grit his teeth.

"Princess, that bet of yours? It tripled. People did not expect Hama to do nearly so well, if not only because he has been out of the ring so long that they forgot his face. You've made more than a pretty penny," Etzla gushed happily, but his look soured as he noticed the pained expression on Hama's face. "But it seems you certainly worked for it. How is it?"

Hama's eyes flickered to Ros, and he considered lying, but he knew better than that. She would see through it as easily as seeing through glass. He was never the best liar to begin with, and downplaying the problem could be worse than just stating it outright.

"Not good. It is no gamebreaker, but it certainly hurts quite a bit. I think Tanocta broke a few of my ribs. Breathing is... well, I do not enjoy it much," Hama admitted, trying his best not to move.

"We've laudanum, if--"

"No, I shall sit through it. None of that stuff, Etzla, you know how I hate it so."
 
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Rosleigh, for once, was not so concerned either, with the way of the crowd or the city she had come to be a part of. Something had changed when they had been barred from leaving... a sense within her of her own strength, her own purposeful drive. She was not the little bird, locked in her castle bower anymore, she had grown wings, and she wanted nothing more, in that moment, anyway, than to soar.

But Hama's injuries were, to put it mildly, a touch disconcerting, and put a slight damper on what otherwise would have been an absolutely thrilling evening. Learning that her bet had been so successful was a small surprise, but her concerns were honed... focused on her doctor, and settling beside him, careful not to jostle him at all, she frowned softly.

"Oh, my Hama... What have I done to you? They will heal alright, won't they? If the breathing is too difficult, I think I might be able to give you a pointer or two..."
 
Hama laughed, but this proved to be a poor decision as he screwed his face into a wince. He was grateful the princess had some form of humor, because he was not exactly seeing the bright side in all this at the moment. The young man glanced down at his ribs where he'd been kicked, and the fact he wasn't coughing blood told him that the injury wasn't too terrible. More than likely, they were just fractured, a small break that did not push the ribs into any other organs.

"They will heal. Where ribs are concerned, the best medicine is to leave them be, so long as they do not protrude into anything else... which these have not," Hama admitted, looking up at Ros. He smiled wearily.

"Small price to pay. You made a good fortune. They always bet better on amateurs than professionals. More uncertainty," Hama explained as he tried to lean himself back in the chaise, biting his lip. He used Ros' shoulder to support himself as he tried his best not to aggravate the broken bones.
 
Helping as best she could, Rosleigh frowned with concern, her eyes sweeping the spot as the bruises shifted from angry red to a mottled purple, "Someone ought to kick him back..." She muttered.

Sitting straighter, she smiled, but there was a sudden rigidity to it as she recalled the conversation she'd had with Etzla earlier. She had more than enough now, to pay for her own abduction. But that didn't make the thought of it any easier... Least of all the thought of leaving Hama. The harder she considered these factors, the bigger the knot that formed in her stomach and looking at the wall, for any excuse to turn away, she nodded, "It was quite the payoff. You really are quite good, Hama. Moving into the professional section? It was brilliant. If you weren't such a good doctor, I might reason Etzli's right in suggesting you make a career of it..."

Reaching out, her fingers grazed his wrist, curling along the yellow ribbon and her smile softened, "You honored my token... And where I'm from, any warrior who does so is afforded one request from the gifter. So... what will it be?"
 
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Hama glanced up at her almost pityingly, as if sheepishly admitting to some dark, sordid secret. He opened his mouth as if to answer, but no sound came out. Etzla slapped his knees, making the young physician jump (an action he quickly regretted), as he said, "I've a mind to fetch us drinks! Lady, you've not been to Azawa until you've had the finest of our plum liquors." With that, Etzla vacated the room with undue speed, as if he had something in mind... Hama had an idea, and he shook his head long-sufferingly after his older half-brother. The man was troublesome, but he meant well. Sometimes, he could really put his nose where it most definitely did not belong, however...

Hama thought for a long while, before he gripped Ros' hand with a seemingly desperate candor. He leaned towards her, close enough that whatever he would say would be heard by her ears and her ears alone. His eyes remained steered towards his lap in deep thought, as he whispered to her, "Please... if you would, just stay safe. As safe as you can manage. That is all I want of you."

He finally looked up at her, his eyebrows drawn up in concern as his eyes began to wet, not enough to allow for tears but enough that it was evident he had to fight to keep his composure. It was a sudden departure from the jovial tone they'd committed to beforehand, but there was an odd gravity to his words.

"I apologize if I am too forward, I just..." He looked down at his lap, at her hand.

"I would be remiss to say that I do not care about your health and wellbeing."
 
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It wasn't what she'd expected to hear... Not in the least and as his eyes met her own and she saw the expression he wore, the dampness of those dark brown depths, her heart gave. How could she ever think to leave him... To follow through with her plan and adandon him to such an unspeakable burden. She would know she was safe, but he would be lost in the illusion of her scheme...

And she could not leave him to such a fate, even if she were damning herself all the same.

Her fingers curled tighter around his and staring into his eyes, she nodded, "I promise, my dear Hama... I will be as safe as one is humanly capable of being. If it will bring you peace, I would go back to my cage for all of eternity..."

Smiling gingerly, she shrugged, "All I want... is your happiness."
 
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"What a coincidence - I also want my happiness," Hama chuckled back, his eyes nevertheless still imploring as he looked down at the ground. "But as that's so... I believe... that your safety cannot be assured while my grandfather has a hold on you. And that is why... I... think we cannot play fair as we have been."

Hama's expression turned uncharacteristically somber.

"I believe perhaps it is time to go to the King and be frank about your position," he stated, looking up. "For I believe he cares for your welfare, and I think he tires of the game the qarabs play with Azawa's future."
 
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