Luludja Lovari
Newb
ME : A raven-haired beauty, it is a constant struggle to tame the wild, curling tresses, often drawn back by delicate silver combs when she attends to the court, and left free when she dons the traditional attire of her people, too proud of her favorite feature to modestly cover it. Her eyes are expressive, a constant betrayal of her passionate emotions, in a brilliant shade of emerald green. Olive skinned, fine boned, and petite, she rises only to a little more than five foot three, with a narrow waist, and subtle curves. Her right arm and shoulder are decorated in intricate floral tattooing, and she is almost always adorned with jewelry; from her golden nose ring, to copper bracelets, belled bangles and dangling earrings. For her own protection, she carries two daggers, their jeweled hilts tucked into her sashes, or depending from her narrow belt. Her attire varies, from layers of silken skirts and sashes, embroidered vests or soft linen blouses when she performs, to the more ornate gowns of a lady with satin slippers, but always she is accompanied by the silvery sound of tiny bells, sewn into the hems of her garments by her own hand, a chime of music in her every step.
Location : Meldrum City
Occupation/Titles : Division Leader of the Royal Order of Courtiers, First Lady to Her Majesty, Queen Caillean, Her Grace, Duchess Car Zenesa, Lady Luludja of the Lovari Vitsa
Humor : Lead me not into temptation; I can find the way myself.
Number of posts : 73
Registration date : 2010-02-05
 | Subject: History of a Gypsy  Thu Feb 25, 2010 5:04 pm | |
| Her father was known in his parts as a King among the Roma. He commanded many wagons, his wealth was matched only by the Hungarian Boyars. Her mother was the first of his wives. Many would come after her, but she was his first love.
She bore him a son in their first year of marriage, at twelve years of age. The first prince of their people was named Zindelo like his father. The next spring brought the arrival of a daughter, and the death of the woman who bore her.
She was the rose of her father's eyes, and he named her Luludja, blossom.
He soon remarried and other children filled his wagons, but none were as close as the two given by his first wife.
Life among the Roma was not easy, though their father was permissive and indulgent. Kind and wise, he was also proud and shrewd, and he instilled these traits in his children.
By the time she was thirteen, the young Luludja had been passed over for marriage twice. Few men could satisfy her father, or her eldest brother. Already her voice was a legend around their fires and she was learning to dance with vivacity and grace.
The summer nights drew crowds of onlookers; villages, traveling merchants, even nobility in disguise all came to watch the nomadic tribe in their performances.
One man, a boy really, of seventeen, began to follow them as their encampment moved. Every night he came to hear her sing, to watch her dance. Every day the blond stranger would beg her to run away with him. He was the son of a wealthy merchant and would take care of her, he promised.
The prince watched the gadje's advances with growing anger. At fourteen he was a man among his people. He had built his own vardo, a symbol of his status. This man had nothing to offer his sister, and in a rare display of displeasure, the young Zindelo drove the pale-skinned man away from their tribe.
But she had begun to think that she was falling in love. And his banishment was the impetus she needed. He returned to her that night in secret and this time when he asked, she was ready.
They fled, his promises keeping her fears at bay.
It took her brother only two days to find her, singing for her meals in the tavern where the merchant's son had abandoned her. Zindelo sent her back to her father's vardo in disgrace, though he continued his hunt with grim determination.
At fourteen, Zindelo killed.
After a month sequestered in the wagons, it became clear that the Roma princess was with child.
She was the rose of her people no longer. Her father cast her out of his wagon, with nothing but her name.
Zindelo, however, took pity on his beloved sister. The wagon he had built, the ponies he had pilfered, and the supplies she would need were given to her freely. Zindelo gave up his home to her, but as a prince, none dared to gainsay his decision. The only one who could simply called him a fool and never spoke of his first daughter again.
Alone in the wilds, she gave birth to her son. A boy without a father to name him. She called him simply what he was, a boy, Baiat. He was her greatest shame, and her greatest joy. His blond hair and blue eyes served as a constant reminder against her foolishness.
Zindelo ensured their survival, seeing to their needs when they could not. A lantern in his wagon held properties that allowed their swift travel, a magical artifact that had been long passed down through their ancestors. It served Luludja well, even to the day she first appeared in the Kingdom of Solurius; a chance journey that served to alter her life's course irrevocably. | |
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