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runicloreRevelation in Black and White
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: Suikoden III
Words: 955
Notes: Go has some history in Chinese divination -- if you were wondering. :p
......................................
Albert was contemplating a go board when she returned from her errand to the outpost office. He watched her shake dust from her long skirt and hang her cloak on its hook, retrieve the missives he'd sent her for, and approach the table. Caleria wasn't doing anything good for her complexion, he couldn't help noting; her nose and chin, and the curves of her ears were rosy with sunburn, and her lips were dry, the bottom cracked. The climate was drier than Toran, which he knew to be her only frame of reference for weather, or he suspected she would have taken pains to prevent such things. She wasn't vain, but she understood the importance of maintaining her appearance in respect to her rank.
Sarah looked up from her sorting and balked at his gaze. He quickly averted his eyes to the board. "Has the Thirty-fourth arrived yet?" he asked, and placed another stone. White clearly had the advantage in this game, but then, it always did.
"No." She seemed to hesitate, or so it seemed from the blur of color in his peripheral vision, and then she sat opposite him and laid their mail on the table. "Blair says there was a delay in one of the upper provinces. He didn't elaborate."
He sighed and stared at the board. "Luc, Yuber?"
Sarah shook her head. "I have not felt them return." She folded her hands over the stack of envelopes and turned her eyes to the board. "Who was your opponent?"
"Hmm." He placed a black stone, and knew the move for the mistake it was now, though he'd thought it clever back then. "I prefer to replay others' games."
"You were playing black," she stated. "Who was white - your grandfather?"
His eyebrow twitched up. "So sure of yourself."
She looked at him, head canted to the side, only the tension in her shoulders betraying irritation. Her voice was even and cool. "You are aware of the origin of this game, aren't you?"
Albert let himself smile, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I am not a believer."
His smile widened when she made an irritated sound and propped her chin in her hand to stare at the board. He watched her eyes roam the pattern of stones, and wished he'd brought the board out sooner - a week ago, or a month ago, when the very idea of speaking to him seemed to frighten her. He'd thought her meek, or perhaps simply uncomfortable around men; Luc didn't count, and he suspected Sarah spent her childhood cloistered in the tower he journeyed to for their third meeting. In his mind's eye her image belonged there, beneath the stone arches of the outer corridor and the broken pillars of the ruins outside, a puzzle piece fitting into its rightful place.
Luc claimed she was Sindar. Albert believed it. He'd felt the ruins resonate and breathe in time with her. The way she caressed the crumbling marble, how her voice hushed when she spoke within their precincts, he couldn't imagine her anywhere else. A cruel metaphor, perhaps, for what awaited them if she refused to change her mind.
She held her own in the company of men, he'd come to realize. It was just him. She would not open up to him - and he couldn't deny her instincts were correct, in that regard. He didn't have to like it, however. Her smile was sweet, and revealed itself too seldom.
He placed white's next move. "What would black do, you think?"
Sarah met his gaze from beneath her heavy golden fringe. Then her attention flicked back to the board, and he waited.
"You would have attacked," she said, a moment earlier than he expected. Her hand hovered over a formation in the upper left corner. "Here, white appears to be vulnerable, and your last move secured the right."
Albert placed his stone. "Is white vulnerable?"
"No."
He leaned back, watching her fiddle with their mail, attention still riveted to the board. Her eyes went heavy-lidded when she was drawn into her own thoughts, and her face softened from its determined non-expression. He wondered how she would play. Cautiously, he thought; she would build her territory with infinite patience, and refrain from attacking beyond her means. One's play, he'd heard once, provided insight into one's mental pattern.
Though Albert tried, he had yet to nail down his grandfather's style. Just when he thought he knew the pattern, it twisted, and he was left with another lesson on his own weaknesses. Such was the purpose of playing. He liked to think it happened less often than before.
"In five moves," she said slowly, twisting the ends of her hair arond her fingers, "white will seize the center if black does not defend."
"Seven," he said.
"Hm?" She blinked, looked startled.
"In seven moves, he took the center, and I realized my mistake."
She seemed to smile, faintly enough that it could have been a shadow cast by the light streaming through the windows. "He went easy on you."
Albert snorted. "You think so?"
"How old were you when you played this game?"
"Eight," he answered, rolling a white stone over his fingers. "You? When did you learn?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "Eight?" She stared at the board, lips parting silently. Her answer, when his question registered, was distracted. "I don't know. Quite some time after I arrived, though..."
A strange thing to be unaware of, Albert thought, watching her slender hands shuffle through the mail again. He leaned forward, reaching to still her them. She jumped. "Would you care for a game?"
After an agonizing moment, Sarah's gaze flicked up to meet his again, and she smiled. "Yes, please."
......................................
Hm. Some of these sentences are probably needlessly convoluted. Oh well.
Also, you can probably tell, but I don't know a damned thing about actual go. :P I wanted to play with the divinatory stuff, but there wasn't enough information at hand. Maybe next time.
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: Suikoden III
Words: 955
Notes: Go has some history in Chinese divination -- if you were wondering. :p
......................................
Albert was contemplating a go board when she returned from her errand to the outpost office. He watched her shake dust from her long skirt and hang her cloak on its hook, retrieve the missives he'd sent her for, and approach the table. Caleria wasn't doing anything good for her complexion, he couldn't help noting; her nose and chin, and the curves of her ears were rosy with sunburn, and her lips were dry, the bottom cracked. The climate was drier than Toran, which he knew to be her only frame of reference for weather, or he suspected she would have taken pains to prevent such things. She wasn't vain, but she understood the importance of maintaining her appearance in respect to her rank.
Sarah looked up from her sorting and balked at his gaze. He quickly averted his eyes to the board. "Has the Thirty-fourth arrived yet?" he asked, and placed another stone. White clearly had the advantage in this game, but then, it always did.
"No." She seemed to hesitate, or so it seemed from the blur of color in his peripheral vision, and then she sat opposite him and laid their mail on the table. "Blair says there was a delay in one of the upper provinces. He didn't elaborate."
He sighed and stared at the board. "Luc, Yuber?"
Sarah shook her head. "I have not felt them return." She folded her hands over the stack of envelopes and turned her eyes to the board. "Who was your opponent?"
"Hmm." He placed a black stone, and knew the move for the mistake it was now, though he'd thought it clever back then. "I prefer to replay others' games."
"You were playing black," she stated. "Who was white - your grandfather?"
His eyebrow twitched up. "So sure of yourself."
She looked at him, head canted to the side, only the tension in her shoulders betraying irritation. Her voice was even and cool. "You are aware of the origin of this game, aren't you?"
Albert let himself smile, the corners of his mouth twitching up. "I am not a believer."
His smile widened when she made an irritated sound and propped her chin in her hand to stare at the board. He watched her eyes roam the pattern of stones, and wished he'd brought the board out sooner - a week ago, or a month ago, when the very idea of speaking to him seemed to frighten her. He'd thought her meek, or perhaps simply uncomfortable around men; Luc didn't count, and he suspected Sarah spent her childhood cloistered in the tower he journeyed to for their third meeting. In his mind's eye her image belonged there, beneath the stone arches of the outer corridor and the broken pillars of the ruins outside, a puzzle piece fitting into its rightful place.
Luc claimed she was Sindar. Albert believed it. He'd felt the ruins resonate and breathe in time with her. The way she caressed the crumbling marble, how her voice hushed when she spoke within their precincts, he couldn't imagine her anywhere else. A cruel metaphor, perhaps, for what awaited them if she refused to change her mind.
She held her own in the company of men, he'd come to realize. It was just him. She would not open up to him - and he couldn't deny her instincts were correct, in that regard. He didn't have to like it, however. Her smile was sweet, and revealed itself too seldom.
He placed white's next move. "What would black do, you think?"
Sarah met his gaze from beneath her heavy golden fringe. Then her attention flicked back to the board, and he waited.
"You would have attacked," she said, a moment earlier than he expected. Her hand hovered over a formation in the upper left corner. "Here, white appears to be vulnerable, and your last move secured the right."
Albert placed his stone. "Is white vulnerable?"
"No."
He leaned back, watching her fiddle with their mail, attention still riveted to the board. Her eyes went heavy-lidded when she was drawn into her own thoughts, and her face softened from its determined non-expression. He wondered how she would play. Cautiously, he thought; she would build her territory with infinite patience, and refrain from attacking beyond her means. One's play, he'd heard once, provided insight into one's mental pattern.
Though Albert tried, he had yet to nail down his grandfather's style. Just when he thought he knew the pattern, it twisted, and he was left with another lesson on his own weaknesses. Such was the purpose of playing. He liked to think it happened less often than before.
"In five moves," she said slowly, twisting the ends of her hair arond her fingers, "white will seize the center if black does not defend."
"Seven," he said.
"Hm?" She blinked, looked startled.
"In seven moves, he took the center, and I realized my mistake."
She seemed to smile, faintly enough that it could have been a shadow cast by the light streaming through the windows. "He went easy on you."
Albert snorted. "You think so?"
"How old were you when you played this game?"
"Eight," he answered, rolling a white stone over his fingers. "You? When did you learn?"
Her eyebrows shot up. "Eight?" She stared at the board, lips parting silently. Her answer, when his question registered, was distracted. "I don't know. Quite some time after I arrived, though..."
A strange thing to be unaware of, Albert thought, watching her slender hands shuffle through the mail again. He leaned forward, reaching to still her them. She jumped. "Would you care for a game?"
After an agonizing moment, Sarah's gaze flicked up to meet his again, and she smiled. "Yes, please."
......................................
Hm. Some of these sentences are probably needlessly convoluted. Oh well.
Also, you can probably tell, but I don't know a damned thing about actual go. :P I wanted to play with the divinatory stuff, but there wasn't enough information at hand. Maybe next time.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-12-21 06:53 pm (UTC)Umm, I don't know anything about actual go either, so I can't complain. The divination aspect of this is quite interesting.
no subject
Date: 2007-12-23 11:33 pm (UTC)Well, as long as it comes off okay in the story, I suppose not knowing that much about go doesn't hurt like I thought it would.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-27 01:53 am (UTC)Despite the length, this piece is quite atmospheric; the finer nuances your characters go through, i.e. averting their eyes, Albert's keen observations, etc., along with the minimalist prose somehow gives the piece more life and the characters more human. Especially Albert in this case. I love your Albert.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-28 05:44 am (UTC)You give me hope that I'm not completely messing up his character. Most people write him so differently that I second-guess myself every time I post a fic with him in it. Not that I don't like Albert the Bastard, just that... well, yeah. We've talked about this before.
I love his coat. I want one.