Character
N A U S I C A Ä J E R I K K O
-
Full Name: Zhar'hara Nausicaa Jerikko
Species: Human
Age: Twenty (20)
Gender: Female
Sexual Orientation: Heterosexual
Homeworld: Ganath
Affiliation(s):- Jedi Order
- Galactic Republic
- Ganath
Force-sensitive: YesNausicaa struggled to survive in this new world with its strange people. A strange place where she became the outside looking in, staring at walls instead of the walls staring at her. She wandered, emaciated and desperate, until a blade smith took an interest in her small frame, quick feet and invisibility. He offered her food and a narrow space to sleep in return for her services, from heating iron to pickpocketing. For 281 days she stole from customers browsing his wares, as well as from unsuspecting individuals on the busy streets when she wasn't assisting him in his store. She learned to string 26 letters into a sentence, to skin a hare for the blade smith's dinner, even to dance a little from the street performers she gawked at when the blade smith was distracted or she was out on an errand.
She'd never once been caught stealing, that was until the 282nd day. She should've known something was different by the people who gasped and skittered to the sides or onto their knees, but she hadn't. It was not until the noble woman's coin pouch was in her fist and the young boy was snapping at her heels that she realised they were not ordinary people. The boy looked barely older than her, yet he was clothed in the sorts of silks she'd only seen servants purchase for their balding masters. He yelled and ran after her, but she ran harder. She might've gotten away if his legs had been shorter, or she hadn't rammed her growing limbs into a fruit vendor's stall. He'd tackled her into the ground, pounding the breath from her lungs with his weight and impact, snapping something she was too panicked to understand.
And then she was back. and venom had spewed out of it. The guard at the door slammed the butt of his sword into her temple in anger. When she sprawled across the damp ground, her loose dress was jerked away from her left shoulder, revealing the curious birthmark it was said the lost Princess of Ganath possessed.
The next few weeks bled into one another. She vaguely understood what was being told. That nine years ago, Princess Zhar'hara Nausicaa Jerikko was born in Ganath. The baby had come prematurely but all was well, even though her father was not able to reach Ganath in time to tend to his wife and newborn. Her mother had been returning to her husband with their first daughter when their ship was attacked by pirates. The ship was destroyed, and it was believed all aboard had perished.
Her father succumbed to a deep depression, refusing to leave his chambers or to touch his meals. It was said all he did was read and re-read his beloved wife final letter to him, delivered just before she boarded the ship. The letter spoke of Princess Zhar'hara's deep green eyes, "like yours," it had said. It detailed their baby's strange birthmark on the curve of her left shoulder, an inverted triangle with a T at its centre. Soon all of Ganath who grieved the loss of their beloved Queen and the little princess knew of Princess Zhar'hara's peculiar marking.
The return of the princess spread even faster than news of her death, reaching not merely the corners of Ganath, but neighbouring kingdoms as well. It was a miracle. How had she survived the shipwreck? Did the pirates take her hostage? How had she returned after nearly a decade? And perhaps the most pressing question of all, why now? Why wait nine years to collect the ransom money? But there were no treasures demanded in return for the princess, no warning posed or statement made. The princess had simply reappeared from the dead with seemingly no inkling of what might've been done to her in the years of being lost.
His daughter was home. A piece of his wife had returned like a lost fragment of his heart. In all the years following the Queen's death, he had never once glanced at another woman. The King gave Zhar'hara everything, more diamonds, guards, handmaidens and teachers than even a normal princess would have possessed. Soon the Princess Returned seemed to have regained what was lost, and with her return, the King and thus his kingdom, was as it once was.
A childhood spent not as a princess but as a beggar and a thief, however, was not so easily undone. She possessed none of the gentle mannerisms or feminine qualities demanded of a princess. She was quick to anger and constantly picked fights with boys, girls, carers, strangers, even her own family members. The only creatures who seemed to be capable of placating her fire were beasts themselves. Animals adored her, unlike her governess, whose colour fled from her hair within weeks of meeting the Princess Returned. The lowly servants, however, praised Zhar'hara's kindness and sensitivity towards them. She would often attempt to aid her servants in performing menial tasks, like washing the dishes or making her bed. This was initially met with the horror of her ladies-in-waiting and her father, but they soon relinquished control over the princess in this area. There were many more wars she insisted fighting, and her desire to help the scullery maid was not a particularly pressing issue. After all, the civilians seemed to hail their Princess as being gentle, selfless and caring, three traits even Zhar'hara herself would not claim to possess.
-
Height: 5'3" // Weight: 115lbs // Eyes: Hazel // Hair: Blonde
WIP pls be nice im new to this !!
Last edited: