Suikoden, sort of. A countenance of ice.
Dec. 18th, 2006 09:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreHouse Travalle fell somewhere in the IS 300s, let's say. :P
- - - - -
"It's about bloody time," Lovelle called at her entrance. He pulled a long-suffering look when she entered the drawing room. "I'd a mind to drink to myself, if you were too busy. I've been waiting for hours."
Elsa rolled her eyes and pulled her shawl over her arm, whipping it over the back of the sofa. He caught it deftly. "I had business to attend to."
"I see." Abandoning his pretense to glance at her sidelong, he asked, "Writing in our diary, were we?"
She made a disgusted sound and sat at the opposite end of the couch, snatching her shawl back and folding it neatly over her knees. "Your family's abysmal lack of tradition isn't any more attractive, you know."
He laughed, but the sound was shallow, thin. She watched him a moment, as he reached for the glasses - already filled, and so he must have been expecting her, no matter what he said about waiting - and handed her one with a tilted eyebrow. "The Mercade family is famous for its strategists, and certainly for its fortune. Why haven't we heard of your library of memoirs, I wonder."
"Hmm." She took a sip and twirled the glass stem between her fingers. "'House Travalle ought give us the keys to their vault and resign with some dignity,'" she quoted after a moment of thought. He should know of the decline of Travalle - everyone did. It was one of the few unsavory points her family's opponents could rely on in a fight. "'Wilhemina is an awful hag," she continued, maintianing her expression with difficulty. "and they only face humiliation with her as head. Their astonishing predaliction for failure will never end, at this rate.'"
Lovelle tried to swallow a snort of laughter. "You're joking."
Elsa lifted her eyebrows, smiling slightly over her glass. "'I cannot believe Ellone wore red to Lady Wilhemina's memorial. That's so tasteless, even with Travalle's reputation in mind. Marrying into the family doesn't mean she must sink into their sinful ways.'"
"A fine history," he said, looking rather pained. "I think I'll forego the rest after all. I had no idea your women were such gossips."
Her smile faded to a bare turning of the lips, and she gave him a moment to think, sipping again before subjecting him to one last quote. Though he showed no sign of it, he was waiting for something, and she thought they might as well get down to business. "'His countenance is mild and pale like snow, and he spoke so softly I could scarce believe this man's will alone shaped our nation from Aronia's remains. Yet with a mere meeting of gazes I fell to my knees, and nothing so sweet has touched my ears since as the honeyed tone in which he begged my allegience.'"
Chilled, and having only Lovelle's silence as response, she leaned over to put her glass on the table and buried her hands in her shawl. Her companion stared into the flame of the lamp, no longer wearing any expression she could interpret as good or bad.
"He was just as I expected," she said, when the silence stretched too long.
The sound of her voice seemed to breathe life into Lovelle; he slid his glass onto the table beside hers and he leaned back with a heavy sigh. "I suppose Dowaine's replacement will be gifted with an audience as well, yes?"
Elsa shrugged. "I've no idea what his policy is on this matter."
"The only bishops I know of that meet the high priest face to face have ties to your families."
"Well." She fiddled with her bracelet. "We were his vassals, long ago. I don't think he'd be fond of breaking traditions that old. There are other histories to be had in our library," she said, somewhat warily. "Many tell us what ill wisdom it is to force his hand."
He grunted, and she glanced at him quickly, only to look away when he leveled a sharp look of his own. "And now that you've met your Overlord, do you have the stomach to defy him?"
"Of course. I haven't changed my mind."
Lovelle grasped her chin and made her turn her head to face him, though he was more gentle than his dark expression implied. "This is not a matter we can pursue without your full confidence," he said softly, even patiently. "You had best be sure."
Elsa jerked her chin away. "It is not an easy thing to forget," she said, lips tightening at the strained sound of her own voice.
"You pledged--?"
"We all do," she interrupted. "Don't we?" She reached for her wine and touched the glass to her lips, though she didn't drink. "It's an apt description, what I quoted. And we'd be nowhere if I hadn't, so don't give me that look. Your plans won't go anywhere if you're afraid of the rune."
Lovelle sighed. "As you wish." He raised his glass. "A toast, to Harmonia's youngest bishop."
Elsa raised her glass, not quite trusting that he wasn't mocking her. But he let the matter drop, and if she couldn't forget, the night at least pushed her memory of that meeting to the shadows, where it belonged.
- - - - -
"It's about bloody time," Lovelle called at her entrance. He pulled a long-suffering look when she entered the drawing room. "I'd a mind to drink to myself, if you were too busy. I've been waiting for hours."
Elsa rolled her eyes and pulled her shawl over her arm, whipping it over the back of the sofa. He caught it deftly. "I had business to attend to."
"I see." Abandoning his pretense to glance at her sidelong, he asked, "Writing in our diary, were we?"
She made a disgusted sound and sat at the opposite end of the couch, snatching her shawl back and folding it neatly over her knees. "Your family's abysmal lack of tradition isn't any more attractive, you know."
He laughed, but the sound was shallow, thin. She watched him a moment, as he reached for the glasses - already filled, and so he must have been expecting her, no matter what he said about waiting - and handed her one with a tilted eyebrow. "The Mercade family is famous for its strategists, and certainly for its fortune. Why haven't we heard of your library of memoirs, I wonder."
"Hmm." She took a sip and twirled the glass stem between her fingers. "'House Travalle ought give us the keys to their vault and resign with some dignity,'" she quoted after a moment of thought. He should know of the decline of Travalle - everyone did. It was one of the few unsavory points her family's opponents could rely on in a fight. "'Wilhemina is an awful hag," she continued, maintianing her expression with difficulty. "and they only face humiliation with her as head. Their astonishing predaliction for failure will never end, at this rate.'"
Lovelle tried to swallow a snort of laughter. "You're joking."
Elsa lifted her eyebrows, smiling slightly over her glass. "'I cannot believe Ellone wore red to Lady Wilhemina's memorial. That's so tasteless, even with Travalle's reputation in mind. Marrying into the family doesn't mean she must sink into their sinful ways.'"
"A fine history," he said, looking rather pained. "I think I'll forego the rest after all. I had no idea your women were such gossips."
Her smile faded to a bare turning of the lips, and she gave him a moment to think, sipping again before subjecting him to one last quote. Though he showed no sign of it, he was waiting for something, and she thought they might as well get down to business. "'His countenance is mild and pale like snow, and he spoke so softly I could scarce believe this man's will alone shaped our nation from Aronia's remains. Yet with a mere meeting of gazes I fell to my knees, and nothing so sweet has touched my ears since as the honeyed tone in which he begged my allegience.'"
Chilled, and having only Lovelle's silence as response, she leaned over to put her glass on the table and buried her hands in her shawl. Her companion stared into the flame of the lamp, no longer wearing any expression she could interpret as good or bad.
"He was just as I expected," she said, when the silence stretched too long.
The sound of her voice seemed to breathe life into Lovelle; he slid his glass onto the table beside hers and he leaned back with a heavy sigh. "I suppose Dowaine's replacement will be gifted with an audience as well, yes?"
Elsa shrugged. "I've no idea what his policy is on this matter."
"The only bishops I know of that meet the high priest face to face have ties to your families."
"Well." She fiddled with her bracelet. "We were his vassals, long ago. I don't think he'd be fond of breaking traditions that old. There are other histories to be had in our library," she said, somewhat warily. "Many tell us what ill wisdom it is to force his hand."
He grunted, and she glanced at him quickly, only to look away when he leveled a sharp look of his own. "And now that you've met your Overlord, do you have the stomach to defy him?"
"Of course. I haven't changed my mind."
Lovelle grasped her chin and made her turn her head to face him, though he was more gentle than his dark expression implied. "This is not a matter we can pursue without your full confidence," he said softly, even patiently. "You had best be sure."
Elsa jerked her chin away. "It is not an easy thing to forget," she said, lips tightening at the strained sound of her own voice.
"You pledged--?"
"We all do," she interrupted. "Don't we?" She reached for her wine and touched the glass to her lips, though she didn't drink. "It's an apt description, what I quoted. And we'd be nowhere if I hadn't, so don't give me that look. Your plans won't go anywhere if you're afraid of the rune."
Lovelle sighed. "As you wish." He raised his glass. "A toast, to Harmonia's youngest bishop."
Elsa raised her glass, not quite trusting that he wasn't mocking her. But he let the matter drop, and if she couldn't forget, the night at least pushed her memory of that meeting to the shadows, where it belonged.
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Excellent!
Date: 2006-12-19 06:04 am (UTC)I just like so many things about this...the gossip (adds some interesting information), the Mercade history (Yay for history!), the comment on Hikusaak (Yay Hikusaak!), and just the general intelligent coolness of Elsa. (Not as brave as Elsa, huh, Elric? *laughs*)
Re: Excellent!
Date: 2006-12-19 11:15 am (UTC)This was originally going to be Elsa's diary entry, but I got such a solid idea for Lovelle and his personality that I had to write it this way instead.