*Grete fell to one knee before the champion of her clan. The clang of her armored greave against stone echoed briefly off the nearby stone pillars, and then vanished in the depths of the massive cavern around her. Her champion, Björn, held aloft the ancient iron shield of their clan for all to see. A hush fell over the crowd as this moment finally began, desperately awaited hope in the midst of blood and fear.
"Grete Ironshield!" Björn cried out, and his voice boomed heavily between the ancient stone pillars. It even seemed to carry into the darkness above, dancing along the very cavern ceiling.
"Blood!" One hundred warriors cried out in unison, men and women of brave heart declaring their approval of Grete's place among their family. Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt the breath leave her lungs as if it had been drawn right from her. If she hadn't been frightened before, she was now. Her hands began to shake, and she was grateful for the concealment of her armored gauntlets. Battle fear was one thing, but this was another entirely. She imagined that if she could hold Ilse's hand right now, she'd probably break it.
Björn stepped forward and placed a hand on Grete's shoulder. She stood up to her full imposing height, nearly five feet tall, and looked down to meet Björn's gaze. The look in his wizened brown eyes shook the young warrior to her core. Was that disapproval she saw there? The elder's face was hard like the stone of their birth, his weathered skin creased with centuries of experience.
Without missing a beat, Björn called out to the surrounding warriors again. "Held the western watch!"
"Stone!" The hundred warriors called out in response, signaling their approval.
"Crushed two hundred throng!" Björn's voice was like a concussive force.
"Stone!" Again the hundred warriors voiced their support.
Björn narrowed his eyes, and for one cold instant it felt he might betray her chances. Instead she saw the corner of his mouth curl up in a tiny smile. This tremendous breach in protocol was enough that Grete almost sobbed with relief. When he called out her third Proof of Right, this time she heard the pride in his voice. "Felled alone a rampaging troll!"
"Stone!" The warriors cried out before Björn's last word had finished its echo.
Three cries of acceptance, three times these senior warriors of Tiefhalle had agreed to support Grete's claim to ascension. The defenders of their city had thrown their vote, and this was one step closer to done. Grete's heart felt it would beat straight through the steel of her breastplate.
Björn patted Grete's shoulder, though she barely felt it through her armor, and then he stepped to the side. She stood alone now, surrounded by one hundred brave warriors and facing the stone throne of Tiefhalle. It rose proud and sturdy, set atop five steps. Throne, steps, and surrounding pillars were all carved directly from the cavern in which they stood, and had been here for almost three thousand years. Now, Grete had asked to take that seat.
She almost felt sick with fear.
Behind her, the sound of movement alerted her to the next chapter of this event. She turned, and saw warriors stepping to the side. From among them came a man and a woman. Their robes were grey, with silver lining, and embroidered with the symbols of the goddess Kelana; shield and sword over a large mountain. Grete faced them directly and bowed her head deeply. She needed the approval of Tiefhalle's warriors, and she had it, but without the support of the church she would have nothing.
The two holy folk stopped on either side of her, and she did not look up. Like most other kodor, they were shorter than Grete, but still she felt intimidated by them. She was clad in full armor, shield, and carried an arsenal of weaponry, but she felt like a nervous child in the presence of her elders.
"Grete Ironshield," the priestess spoke first, her voice loud enough to be heard. "What gives you the right to claim this throne?"
"Nothing, sister!" Grete cried out without hesitation. There was a small stir among the surrounding warriors. They had just finished voicing their approval for Grete's right, and now she was denying it.
The priest spoke next, from Grete's right. "Then why do you seek coronation?"
Now Grete did raise her head, and her fear left her a bit as she focused on her angry purpose. "Because no one else will fucking do it right!" With each word she raised her voice a little higher, until the final word snapped its echo among the stone pillars like a whip. The crowd stirred in excitement, and she saw their approval return.
"You feel this is your duty?" The priestess bellowed.
"I have no other!" She turned and faced the priestess directly. Her fear began to fly away. Seeking the approval of others had brought her nervous self-doubt, but this was another matter. Now she was proving her case with her words, as she had already done with her hammer.
"What makes you think you can protect this city?" The priest demanded.
She turned her head in his direction, and her smile was genuine. "I've been doing it already!"
Now the surrounding warriors responded in kind, and gave a heavy cheer.
"And what makes you think you can lead this city?" The priestess yelled as the cheer subsided.
"Because I trust my family!" This time Grete yelled it at the warriors ahead of her. Each of them she knew, each of them she had fought beside at one point or another. She knew they would never fail her, and she knew their hammers were as sure as the knowledge of every royal advisor. So she decided to say it. Against protocol, she spoke before one of the two holy folk had a chance to ask their next question.
"I've fought with every warrior I see standing before me." Her voice carried the weight of youthful self-assurance. "I trust their shields will never falter, I know their hammers will swing true. And as much as I know this, I trust the wisdom of my family. I trust my elders who know the ways of rule better than I ever will. All we need is someone to give us focus. I can do that!"
When she addressed herself in that final declaration, she slammed a fist against the breastplate of her armor. Her words were immediately drowned out by the approving cheer of her warrior comrades yet again, and she felt it all. She felt them through the stone, through the soles of her feet, up through her bones and into her heart.
The cheers went on for several moments, and when they finally died down the priest and priestess were smiling. They stepped closer to her, and each placed their hands on each of her shoulders. Cheering began again at this sign of holy acceptance, and the priest was forced to wait again before he spoke the words of coronation.
"Thane has ever been everything to us. Thane is King, Thane is Father."
When the priestess spoke again, she pulled from her belt the Crown of Tiefhalle. "Now, Thane is Queen. Now, Thane is Mother."
She reached up and placed the crown on Grete's head, and just like that it was done.
The crowd of warriors erupted in thunderous cheers, this time supported by the surrounding crowd of citizenry. Grete marveled at how light the crown actually felt, far lighter than it looked. She smiled at the priest and priestess, and marked their faces so she could find them later and thank them personally. It wouldn't do at all for the new Thane to hug her two chief holy advisors at her own coronation.
She turned and faced the throne again. Her throne. The words echoed in her head like a whirlwind of overwhelming responsibility. She stepped forward and ascended those five steps to her seat. At the top, she turned and faced the crowd again. Her crowd. Her people. And beyond them, her city.
Tiefhalle glittered in the darkness. She could see lights from homes and shops, and the bright red glow of the forge area near streams of thanite. This main cavern housed the majority of Tiefhalle's citizenry, beyond were even more caverns where ever more people lived, and beyond that were the ancient caverns yet to be reclaimed.
The crowd, still cheering, moved forward now that they weren't forbidden from coming too close. She smiled down at them and raised her fists in the air triumphantly. It wasn't the most dignified thing to do, sure, but she couldn't help herself. Her people cheered her; and among them she saw humans, orog, serkethians, and even stoneborn come to see her coronation as well.
And among them all, she saw Ilse; beautiful and proud, weeping tears of joy, she was still dressed in her baking clothes and covered in flour. Grete held out a hand, beckoning her wife to the throne. Ilse hesitated for an instant, but with the encouragement of her friends she rushed up the stairs and into Grete's arms.
Now, Grete's fear was a living thing all unto itself. She felt the people around her, felt the sheer size of these caverns as she never had before. These were all now her responsibility. But she felt Ilse's arms around her, strong and supportive, and she saw her closest friends among the crowd. They'd gotten her here, and they would see her through it. The fear was real, and it probably would never go away, but it would also never stop her.*