The Ant Woman Ch. 01

Author's Note: This story takes place in my Rarity series, the one with all the centaurs. However, this story will take place on another part of the planet and centaurs will not be the focus. Now, please keep these important facts in mind: Many elements of cultures from our reality have been used for my story, but my story doesn't rightly represent our reality, and it's not meant to.

Some themes and sexual content in this story will include polygamy, sexism, homosexuality, bisexuality, and nonconsent. Also, elves. I don't normally do anything with elves, but here we are. And I love describing clothing, jewelry, and food. If that bores you, then prepare to be bored.

***

It was a house in the countryside, just outside of the Jinkuh, which was the capital of Junshu. There was a small farm near it to keep it sustainable, but it wasn't meant to be a farm alone. It was actually a place for keeping secret, precious wine and meticulously fermented food. A set of elven women gathered around outside the rustic fence's gate. An average elf was much taller than an average human, and often more slender. These women were slender even by elven standards, and they were quite tanned.

Their clothes were plain and worn. The basic set of clothing for an elven woman involved quite a few items. A long under-skirt that was more similar to a under-dress. A similar garment but for outerwear, a long skirt or dress. The reason why the terms dress and skirt were interchangeably used was because the "waist" part of the garment would be tied and held on or above the bosom instead of the natural waist or hips.

Another garment used was a blouse. The blouse could be tucked under the dress or left on top. The sleeves were often long, but almost never fitted. A small amount of volume, even for the lower classes, was preferred. Under the blouse, there was often another undergarment, often a short under-shirt. When the weather was cold, a pair of ankle-length drawers were discreetly worn to help keep warm. These undergarments were mostly for protecting the outer-garments from body oils and stains.

An important carriage rolled over to house, and a maiden exited it with a clearly learned elegance that none of the other women could match. Although her clothing wasn't as flamboyant as an upper class woman's could've been, it was still fresh. Her smooth, pale brown hair was clean and lovely in the morning light. Even though the hairstyle was kept in a modest topknot, hiding the tips of her pointed ears, everyone could see that she'd used fine oils to condition her hair.

Two guards escorted the maiden through the humble little gate and down the dusty dirt path. Then, some short distance between herself and the other women, the maiden knelt down. She put her fair, smooth hands to the earth and then put her brow there too. Her voice was softened by the ground, but it was clear.

"I must thank your for assisting my father. This maiden," she was referring to herself, "will obey your commands as if they were given by the gods."

One of the tanned women whispered to another, "Doesn't she know she's being punished?"

And another whispered, "Stupid rich girls. They think they know everything, but they know nothing."

The oldest maid, the manager, she had gray hair and not even a hint of a smile. She said to the maiden, "Get up. The only special treatment you'll have is what your father's put aside for you."

Two hours every morning after breakfast. Two hours for writing. That was the mercy her father had given her.

The maiden's upper body rose. She replied, "I'm grateful." Her teeth were black, likely given a new coat every morning. Even though her face was currently clean, she'd obviously once worn rice powder on her face to make it as white as the moon. And even the healthiest teeth will seem unpleasantly yellow when close to such whiteness. It was considered better for the fashionable women to put a gleaming blackness over the teeth. It also helped prevent tooth decay. Those fancy women still needed to brush and floss, but their toothbrushes were very soft.

***

Surname, Lu. Given name, Jiafahn. That's what that maiden was called. She was the daughter of Lu Sahng, a man who worked as the Junior Minister of the Imperial Treasury. He didn't live in the massive, secretive, palatial complex that surrounded the famous Godly Tree, the Tree Cage. He still visited most days out of the week, however. He was a glorified accountant, honestly, but he made good money.

The punishment he'd put on Jiafan was meant to last two years. She'd been accused of destroying her legal mother's favorite pendant. That wasn't interpreted as harmless mischief. Her legal mother was her father's wife, and her natural mother was her father's concubine. She'd allegedly wronged the mistress of the house, a terrible move.

Six months into the punishment, Jiafahn's face was gaunt. Her fingernails were short and dirty. Her complexion was darker. Her teeth were naked. Her hair was too dry to be considered beautiful. But she never complained. And she write every morning, as her father had allowed.

And the strangest thing happened.

One of Lu Sahng's carriages arrived very unexpectedly. Two guards approached the door and one knocked as if his life depended on it. "Bring the Young Mistress to us! Our master has demanded that we take her home!"

The manager led the guards to the back, where Lu Jiafahn was sitting on a wooden stool, using a soaked straw broom with a short handle, to scrub a dull clay chamberpot. When the guards bowed to her, she didn't even look up at them.

"Young Mistress," one guard said, "your father has learned that you've been wrongfully accused. He demands that you return to the family home in complete glory. Please come."

Jiafahn only scrubbed harder. Her voice was colder than a blast of snow. "Father wanted me here for two years. I plan on doing exactly as he wanted."

Everyone, every single person that was there to witness the event, gaped at the maiden.

"Your older sister was the one to prove your innocence," the guard explained. "She overheard the late Madam Lu boast of her lie while drunk."

Jiafahn's broom stopped moving. Her back straightened only a little. Her unimpressed expression remained. "Late Madam Lu? Is that woman dead?"

With a nod, the guard told her, "She was demoted to concubine rank, and your blood mother was promoted to wife. Soon after, Madam Lu hung herself."

Jiafhan's fingernails tapped on the side of the chamberpot. "And what of Honoka?" That was Jiafahn's older sister, actually the late Madam Lu's only child, Jiafahn's half-sister. That fact never bothered her, though. She was still her sister.

"The family was highly busy for a time, because Master sent the older Young Mistress to the concubine audition at the Tree Cage. She was chosen, and now she lives as one of the Emperor's women."

"So," Jiafahn said she she returned to her scrubbing, her voice slowly poisoning her words, "he actually sent her to compete with an obscene amount of women for the Emperor's attention? That doesn't sound like the actions of a loving father." The fingers of her other hand tightened on the pot. "I'm staying. Tell Father that. What will he do? Punish me again? Give me two more years here? That would be redundant."

The manager spoke then, stepping forward and using a gentler tone that what she'd used towards her for the past six months. "Young Mistress," she'd only called her by her name before, "please go to your father. You don't need to suffer here anymore."

Jiafahn stared up at the elder with fierce, hateful eyes, actually making her flinch. "Won't you find another pot for me? I'll wash it so well that you'd happily take your porridge from it."

Her father knew her temper well. He never forced her to return home. Jiafahn stubbornly worked at the house in the countryside until the years were done, and she'd grown into a legally recognized adult.

***

Breden and Duklok. If you wanted to deal with one you needed to deal with the other. If you wanted to open a trade route for one, well, you had better make damn sure you open one for the other too.

When Junshu sent their finest diplomat to Duklok, he stayed with the dwarven king for a time. While there, the diplomat was specifically warned to keep an open mind as he entered Breden. The diplomat had been surprised at how well respected dwarven women were. They even dress like men on occasion, and act much the same as men when it pleases them, and this wasn't considered incorrect in Duklok culture. When the diplomat would go to Breden, the culture would be even more extreme, or extreme according to Junshun standards.

One shouldn't ever, ever imply that a Breden woman needed to submit to her husband the way a Junshu woman needed to. It was a good way to get trampled under the hooves of a few angry centaurs.

By the time the diplomat had returned to Junshu, he had a plethora of information to give the Emperor.

Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin. Family name, Shungjahe. Given name, Shunlin. But not even his mother would address him by his name very often. It was close to asking for bad luck.

As many elves were, he was quite tall and slim. He was one of the few people in Junshu allowed to wear yellow, but on this afternoon, as he sat on a well carved chair and listened to the bearded, dwarven diplomat in his palace, he wore a purple gown instead. It was fastened very discreetly to one side, near a shoulder, and the hem reached his ankles. His golden hair loosely fell over the other shoulder as the dwarven diplomat told him all the benefits of the trade routes.

Nearby, politely wearing soft fabric over his hooves to keep from damaging the polished wooden floor, the centaur diplomat was also listening, wearing a subtle little smile. He was actually in a resting position, his lower body on the floor and his legs folded. His coat could've been called strawberry roan. When the dwarven diplomat finished his speech, the centaur rose up to approach as quietly as he could, but he really couldn't help how much noise he made. He did have a horse-like lower body, after all.

"I've been told this empire's Great Emperor is a curious man, always wanting to learn of other cultures." The centaur moved down again and made a bowing position as some servants presented a case of foreign scrolls and books. "Please let this humble servant," the centaur was referring to himself out of good old fashioned Junshun politeness, "explain that many of these writings might seem offensive, or even immoral to this Great Emperor. However, we would never hand these writings over to His Majesty if they were offensive to our standards. We're only sharing our culture."

Literally waving one of his hands, his heavy rings shining, Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin said, "I'm not easily offended, although I can't say the same for certain officials." He looked to the servants holding the literature. "Have them stored in my library. Consider them as precious as a gift given from me."

Later in the afternoon, as he read some of the texts in his spare time, the Emperor slowly realized something.

Both Breden and Duklok people saw nothing with women writing very ... graphic material.

He knew at least half of the authors were women. They'd signed their names and often put a personal title such as, Lady, Miss, Wife of, Daughter of, and so on.

The topics these women wrote of ranged from blatant commentary and criticism of past and present politics, scientific studies that often involved calling senior doctors incorrect, combat and war in general, and even ... even erotic content. Not only were there fictional stories with erotic content, but there were even "sexual education" texts that encouraged behavior a Junshun woman would be shamed for.

For a time, the Emperor wondered if Breden and Duklok women were wild beasts that beat their husbands to death.

Then he started laughing to himself. His eunuch attendant bowed his head and asked with an uneasy tone, "Is His Majesty happy?"

Shungjahe Shunlin pulled his black, gem encrusted cap off his head as he calmed down, the pinkness fading from his high cheekbones. He leaned back in his chair at his desk, and he said, "Put the texts in my personal treasury. They're very precious to me."

The next morning, as he wore a dark blue gown with silver and gold embroidery forming a pattern of trees, the Emperor lured the dwarf behind a tall potted plant. He knelt, even though he typically only knelt for his mother. It wasn't the dwarf's fault he was so much shorter. The Emperor only had to make sure nobody with a loose set of lips could witness the moment.

He whispered to the dwarf, "What's a kiss?"

***

The diplomats left the Tree Cage in good humor. The dwarf was put inside the carriage and the centaur dressed up for travel. They enjoyed the scenery of the capital as they left it. The curious elven civilians once again turned their necks to see the centaurs pulling and guarding the carriage, and the centaur diplomat who just ran along. Elven hair and eye colors varied, much as the humans, dwarves, and centaurs of Breden and Duklok did. It should be noted, however, that there was the occasional human walking about. These humans mostly had black or dark brown hair and dark eyes.

Junshu had once been an empire of humans, but the elves had conquered it centuries ago.

As the group rode out of the capital, through a massive iron gate, they noticed a lovely set of mountains in the distance. They'd also noticed those mountains on the journey to the capital, but there was no reason not to enjoy them again. Shimmering rivers wound around the great peaks. There was a dam somewhere around there, but they hadn't seen it. They didn't need to see it.

But they did see something else.

An explosion on a side of one of the mountains.

***

Her home was foreign to her, literally.

Now that Honoka was gone, her mother too, Jiafahn and her own mother would be granted the biggest residence, aside from her father. A typical upper class house, even in urban areas, would consist of smaller buildings with a courtyard in the center. So Jiafahn didn't make herself comfortable in her old bedroom. She had to rest in her sister's bedroom.

There was also the fact that Honoka was now dead.

Jiafahn had found out about it close to the end of her term in the countryside. Guards had sent a letter about it.

When Honoka had been accepted as the Emperor's concubine, she was given a new name, Hua, and the rank of Honey Attendant. Jiafahn didn't know much about the Imperial Consort rankings, but later on, when she was home again, her father had told her it was one level higher than the lowest rank. When the body was sent to Lu Sahng's home, it came with Hua's personal items, a chest full of silver disks, and a somber letter written by the Emperor himself.

"Honey Attendant Hua fell ill and is now, unfortunately, in Heaven. I regret not being able to do more for her. Please accept this silver as an apology. Signed, Emperor Shungjahe Shunlin of Junshu."

By the time Jiafahn had finally arrived, Honoka ... or Honey Attendant Hua ... her body had been cremated, but Father whispered a miserable fact to Jiafhan. Before the cremation, someone noticed a certain bruise on the body's throat. Judging by its position and shape, Hua had likely hung herself. Suicide inside the Tree Cage was considered to be an insult to the Royal Family and nearly a crime. In order to save the Lu family from shame, the Emperor had lied.

Well, if not the Emperor, then someone else had lied.

Jiafahn sat down before her new vanity desk, which had once belonged to Honey Attendant Hua.

She opened the case on the desk to find some recently purchased cosmetics. Black teeth paint. Rice powder for the face. Different rouges with many shades of red and pink. A brush with brown paint for darkening her eyebrows after the white foundation had overpowered them.

Some paints of other colors for drawing playful symbols on her face, or to make obvious dots where a cheek's pair of dimples would form (it didn't matter if one had dimples or not). A cutting board, stencils, light and colorful paper, and scissors with a knife for when she wanted a symbol made of paper. Of course there was some glue to make the paper stick. There was even a jar of shiny powder for when she wanted to draw a symbol of paste and then load the powder on top.

A fashionable woman tended to get creative with her makeup.

First, she painted her teeth very carefully. Then with the help of a maid, Jiafahn washed her face. She even mixed some of the rice powder with honey and milk to use as a facial scrub. She didn't believe scrubbing was a healthy thing to do every day, but it was good to do once a week or so. Then she put a light layer of cream on her skin to keep it moisturized. As her face dried, a maid showed her a few pieces of clothing, asking her what she wanted to wear.

More rice powder was used as a base for a liquid foundation, which was painted over her face, lips, throat, ears, and even in a subtle gradient down to her bosom. The reason for this was that sometimes a woman might let some cleavage show, and one didn't want to see a defined separation between white and bare flesh. Even when showing less skin, a fashionable woman would paint her bosom. When that was done, the dry powder was brushed on to solidify everything and provide a dry canvas.

Her eyebrows were painted in. Pale pink rouge was brushed on her cheeks in vague round shapes. Her lips weren't perfectly small and round. So, she couldn't fill her lips in without making them look comically large against the white background. Jiafahn carefully painted a small, round shape in the middle of her top lip. On the bottom lip, she drew a vertical line that was only as thick as the shape on top.

A maid cut out a dark blue carriage wheel of paper and stuck it in the middle of her forehead. Then two black false dimples were put on the hollow parts of her cheeks. Back up where the blue carriage wheel was, on each side of it, a tiny orange flower was drawn, each with six little petals.

In her hair, which had been styled before this process had begun, silk ornaments formed into autumn leaves were pinned. A single wooden hairstick was put inside her high and shiny topknot. There was a quartz stone at the end. An ornamental comb made of bone was also pressed into her bun.

Jiafahn sighed at her reflection. Her round, dark blue eyes were so tired. Even with all this glamor, she still looked so thin. Her face was once a soft oval. Now it looked deflated.

She put on a simple pale green blouse, then tied a long pale gray dress over it. The strings on the dress were hidden by a thick ribbon, and a polished wooden brooch was placed in the center. The brooch's needle was also put through the blouse to help keep the outfit stable.

Escorted by a maid, Jiafahn walked out of the building and moved down a roofed bridge with wooden planks. At the end of the bridge, there was a side entrance of her mother's new residence, which had once belonged to the previous wife.

Inside the dining area, sitting on a chair with a short back, Madam Lu Shuyan turned her head to smile at her guest. The Madam's brown hair was in a tall style with two stacks of round buns and a loop of hair supported by a hidden wire. It reminded Jiafahn of a handle. Multiple fabric flowers, two tortoise shell hairsticks, and two tortoise shell combs were kept in that coiffure. A red flower and four small green leaves were on her forehead. Black dimples were on her cheeks. Her earrings dangled and so did her sleeves, two extra feet of fabric.

Politely, Jiafahn gave something often called a half-kneel, not quite a bow, not quite a full kneel either, just a bending of the knees. "Good morning, Mother."