Tag: Seven Sisters

#10 Althea

This is the 3rd character in a story I’m tossing around about an oppressively matriarchal culture.  Because unlike many feminists would like to believe, men aren’t the only ones capable of despotism, oppression, delusions of grandeur, and warmongering.

Coming from a House of such renown and stature as House Bear, Althea knew that it was hard to get an honest assessment of her person.  But she prided herself in being a realist, a trait which her grandmother Tante Nameh put a lot of emphasis on.  And so, realistically she could say that she was beautiful, but that beauty didn’t amount to much outside of brood mares.  She could say that she was passionate, but many in her family used that as more of a criticism than a compliment.

What she would not say out loud was that she believed herself to be shrewd and a good judge of character, even though she was still, by all standards, quite young for an adult.  Like her grandmother she could cut to the quick of a matter, disregarding details which were unimportant and merely served as distractions.  People’s machinations did not slow her down, she had the skill of assessing not only what was being said, but the reasons why the speaker would say them and the things they would prefer not to mention.

She had been sitting in chambers at what council meetings she could for years, and had found that her reactions and decisions mirrored closely that of the women whom she most looked up to.  Tante Nameh had even been willing to take her in confidence, noticing (as little ever escaped her notice) the diligence with which Althea attended all affairs of state, paying attention to every detail so as not to miss those little cues that people so often betrayed themselves with.

This was the main reason why she would not disclose quite how aware she was of the world around her.  Best to leave others underestimating her, judging her a careless prankster, they gave so much more away to her than they ever did in her grandmother’s presence, and this information had proved useful for her Tante more than once.  And in this, she knew that one of her shortcomings was most likely arrogance, even though she always behaved in a demure and humble manner.

She had another fault.  One she knew and did her best to hide.  And most likely failed at keeping from her Tante, who had eyes in every corner of the world the Mother Sun shone upon.  She was weak with boys and men.  This was a critical flaw, she knew it, but she was powerless to it.  She would have liked to pretend that it was due to some deeper observations on her part, but she had long suspected that it had far more to do with the heat between her legs.

She craved their attention in an unseemly way.  She yearned for the day she might be a Chief, with a fistful of strong bucks answering to her, bowing down to her.  She fantasized of moments where her wisdom earned their honest respect and her canny support earned their undying loyalty.  She could picture herself asking a pit boss what his thoughts on the matter might be, could picture the hush that would fall in the room as she made show of carefully listening to what the man would have to say.  Wether or not he would have useful things to add was nowhere near as important as the affection it would engender in those who served her.

Embarrassing as those thoughts might have been, they paled in comparison to her other flights of fancy.  She would find herself wondering, at the most inappropriate moments, what it would feel like to be touched by this man’s calloused hands, or what it would feel like to run her hand down that other man’s well-muscled arm.  She would catch herself almost panting at the thought of their heat and weight pressing in upon her as they lost control and she let them.

Which was the stupidest thing to do, she knew, but her mind would go there anyway, disregarding all the warnings she had heard her entire life about how dangerous a man became when he was allowed to unleash his passion on a woman.  She wanted it.  That was the sum of it.  She craved a strong and dangerous man to call her own the same way some of her sisters craved drink or smoke.  Her fatal flaw.  And one which she suspected Tante Nameh was more aware of than she let on.  She could feel the woman breathing down her back, she could almost feel the swish of a whip in the woman’s hands, and Althea hoped that whatever Tante had in mind would finally break this spirit horse which ran wild within her.

#9 Niko

This is the 2nd character in a story I’m tossing around about an oppressively matriarchal culture.  Because unlike many feminists would like to believe, men aren’t the only ones capable of despotism, oppression, delusions of grandeur, and warmongering.

Niko was no fool.  Although it was an honor to be chosen as house guard for the Bear family, he knew that he hadn’t been chosen out of merit.  And the old men could damn well stop reminding him of this.  Not that it injured his pride- he was simply to young to have been tested in any remarkable way, had never seen action, had never done more than patrol the city nights.

He knew himself capable, had earned his scant titles, if not dramatically then at least fairly, having worked his way through more than his fair share of drunken disputes.  It was no mystery why so many of those problems landed on him.  Not since he had overheard the sector chief tell his pit-boss, “Send in the pretty one.  The only thing more powerful than a drunk sister’s pride is her lust.  He’ll be able to make them see reason.”

It didn’t smart half as much as it might have.  Niko knew the chief was a sensible and crafty woman, more willing than most to bring justice down on a Lady.  Even a Lady of a House.   And as far as he was concerned, he learned a lot in dealing with these situations with an equal measure of severity and tact.  He could never understand how these perfectly civilized women could become such petty beasts, then wake the next day contrite and shamefaced.  It made him glad that drinking was forbidden for men.  If creatures as adept at self-control as women were reduced to screaming and groping beasts, he could not imagine what he or his kin would be like with one too many under his belt.  Some of his brethren had tried it, once or twice.  It was not a trespass of the first order.  But for himself, he would never.

But he doubted that even this type of experience got him the post.  He suspected that it was another case of “send in the pretty one.”  Suspected, hell, it didn’t take a woman’s brain to tie a few facts together; the first being that he did not rightfully qualify for a post of this magnitude in a House as prominent as Bear was, the second being the much touted coming of age for a Lady who was rumored to be Elder Nameh’s favorite grandchild, the third being that Elder Nameh had not ever been known to make fickle or senseless choices, and the fourth and final fact– that he and the four other guard chosen were young, inexperienced, and good looking.

No mistake, his coming here was a test.  Not of himself, he would never be so arrogant as to think such a thing, but of the young Lady in question.  His Brethren had confirmed his suspicions.  There was little doubt but that one of them was to be that pretty thing that she must see daily but must not touch.  It was a test that he and his brethren were well familiar with.  These sorts of tests were given to every boy long before puberty so that he may learn self-control before his urges began to impose their heavy toll on mind and soul.  But this was not the sort of thing a woman was usually subjected to.  Not even a spirited potential heir.

Then again, this was house Bear, and Elder Nameh was renowned for her ruthless dealings, not only with the men her House claimed, but with every living soul under her care.  Niko was not so proud a fool not to admit that this particular confluence of events was filling him with an unexpectedly heavy level of dread.

#8 Tante Nameh

#8 Tante Nameh

This is the 1^st character in a story I’m tossing around about an oppressively matriarchal culture.  Because unlike many feminists would like to believe, men aren’t the only ones capable of despotism, oppression, delusions of grandeur, and warmongering.

Tante Nameh was strong.  But of course, she had to be to lead a House the size and power of hers.  She followed the teachings of the mothers before her and found no cause to doubt any of their tenets.  After all, it was a strict adherence to the Ways that had brought her people as far as it had, and none of their neighbor nations could dispute this, even those that claimed serious grievances against the Seven Sisters Dominion.

Those nations might have even gone as far as criticizing Tante Nameh, although not publicly and not to her face.  Which was really, in the end, all she could ask.  Calling to task those who called her a bigot would only bring to light the fact that her presence reached far deeper than any of her enemy imagined.  And if they wished to believe that her mindset was one of delusion, all the better for her.  After all, believing your opponent deluded would inevitably lead to overconfidence, a fatal weakness and a trait she always described as exceedingly masculine.

As if it were bigotry not to ignore the physical evidence which was daily presented before her.  Evidence as simple as that soft and delicate sack which males carried prominently between their legs.  Evidence of their inability to hide their feelings, their passions, their… arousal.  Clearly they had not the skills to control their urges, shackled as they were by their own physiology.  Even their superior physical strength was evidence of how far the male body had to go to compensate for its vulnerabilities.  Strong as a man may be, he would never be strong enough to bear a child.  And it was no terribly complicated task to convince a man’s body to plant its seed, even when the man in question might not wish to.

Tanteh Nameh did not fear men any more than she might fear a draft horse or an elegantly turned weapon.  The trick was to ensure you were the one wielding it.  And being the head of Bear House, she should be the one to speak of weapons.

Being the Elder of Bear House also meant that she had no room for weaknesses, either in the powerful blooded men who kneeled to her or in the spirited daughters who carried her name.  Or in herself, which meant that although she may not have hid her silver hair she carried herself ramrod straight regardless of how strenuously her joints may ache.  She did not make a single move without purpose and she could still take down a fighter half her age, be they male or female.

On the days she felt all her years bear down on top of her and her bed tried to keep her down past dawn, she gripped tightly to her Purpose.  She who knew, more than any other House might, exactly how serious that purpose was.  Crow and Bee may think that she acted in order to bring more goods, wealth, and land to the Sisters, but one need not be Crow to know that the Sisters had more than enough coin and supplies.  And Turtle may rail as much as she wished, arguing at every council that Bear House was bringing fire upon their doorstep, but none of this would blind her.

Most Houses were so lulled into complacency that they forgot their deeper History.  All the reasons why the Sisters came to be were conveniently ignored in the name of civility.  House Turtle might remain starkly vigilant in their defense, but Bear House were the only ones still willing to admit the truth.  No House of the Dominion would ever be safe while any Man walked unclaimed upon the earth, willing and capable to pick up arms against whomever He may wish.  Dominion.  Dominion from sea to sea.  That was her Purpose.  Not in the name of gains or power, but in the name of total security for all the Seven Houses.  And nothing, not a single living thing that was capable of bleeding was going to sway House Bear from this one course.  This was the fire that glowed behind Tante Nameh’s icy gaze.  This was the truth that caused all but the strongest willed to drop their eyes when dealing with the Elder of House Bear.