[November 4] [Fire Emblem] As Dawn Breaks
Nov. 4th, 2008 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreAs Dawn Breaks
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: November 4 - competence as a compensation for loneliness (how can i possibly be lonely?)
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Micaiah
Rating: K
Words: 1650
Notes: this was actually inspired by the 'choices' prompt at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
fe_drabble. Also for my Nano count, which means I'm writing fast and not really caring how good it is - everything I post this month will be like that, so consider yourself warned.
The script gets the finger from me, because I hate repeating game dialogue.
Yet another 'dawn' title. I know, I know.
.............................................
Sanaki lit a half stick of incense with the candle on her table and fit it into a glass holder. The tower was silent and Sephiran was gone, and her allies took up residence in rooms that once belonged to senators, priests - traitors. The resinous scent reminded her of ceremonies led in the arena, and prayers that had never been answered.
She'd tried so hard to make up for her deficiencies - for being deaf to the goddess, for instance, and unable to predict the earthquake that struck Asmin in 642, or the tsunami that wrecked twenty-five miles of the southern coastline and displaced thousands. Sephiran promised it would come to her in time, and Lekain dutifully repeated the lie-- until he didn't, and she'd run from the capitol with nothing but her life and what she could carry on a pegasus, which wasn't much: a tome, Ragnell, a few trinkets. Her pride trailed in tatters behind her.
It was so much harder to call herself 'empress' after all she'd heard. Sanaki promised herself she wouldn't dwell on it when she left him behind outside of Ashera's chamber, but her will wasn't strong enough this time. When they entered the cathedral, after Ike and his mercenaries searched every cranny to assure their safety, she saw the sculpture celebrating the Four Heroes in the grand foyer and remembered standing there as a child, her hand in Sephiran's, hearing the story for the first time. She went straight to her rooms, outpacing Sigrun and Tanith, and stood in the doorway to stare at the tapestry over the fireplace, purchased in Melior on one of his sabbaticals, depicting a lady and her faithful servant.
He lied. Lies weren't a rare commodity in Sienne; he'd lied on her behalf many times, convincing nobles to donate money or influence with his pale smile and a soft touch of the hand. Even the men were susceptible to his charm.
Sanaki had never thought of herself in such a light. He called himself merely another tool to fit in her hand, a weapon to wield against the senate, and perhaps it was that promise of faith that seduced her, made with his hands smoothing her hair, cupping her chin. The night before he was supposed to leave for Daein, the night they were ambushed in the corridor and separated, he'd promised on bent knee they would fall, all of them. She couldn't call him a liar for that either, because he'd managed it. He'd managed quite a few things; he managed to betray her while making it sound as if his actions were for her own good.
Three doors down the hallway, in rooms meant for family, Micaiah was sleeping - or perhaps staying up and thinking, just like Sanaki was. The incense burned itself out and she stood up, gathering her robe, tying it tightly closed. The red mantle was another of his gifts, commissioned for her last birthday when she outgrew the other. Its weight made her think she was warm, though her fingers were still ice cold. She swept it onto her shoulders and marched out - again outpacing Tanith, despite the knight's complaints - down the hallway, to Micaiah's door. Her knock was sharp and hardly polite. It left her knuckles stinging.
She heard talking beyond the door, the tone of it annoyed, and then it was opened-- by Sothe. Micaiah waited behind him, hands on her hips. "Your majesty." His tone was almost grudging - as if she needed reminding of what they all heard at the top of the tower. "Can I help you?"
"If you don't mind," Sanaki said, lifting her chin, "I want to speak with my sister. You--" she pointed at the wall by the door, opposite to Tanith's position, "--can stay out here."
Sothe took a step toward her. "Look, I don't care whose empress you are, you have no right to tell me--"
"Sleep outside if you don't like it." Sanaki raised her hand to halt Tanith when she straightened. Even if it was just to give him a piece of her mind, she didn't want to draw any more attention to this meeting. "This will only take a moment. You can sit still for a few minutes, can't you?"
"Sothe." Micaiah touched his arm, and he jerked it to his side with a muttered fine and stalked to the spot indicated for him, leaning against the wall, hands hooked on his belt.
His sidelong glance reminded Sanaki of that assassin Ike hired, and she hurried inside, a wave of her hand bidding Tanith to wait and listen - and to hold Sothe down if necessary. It really would only be a minute, and she didn't want an audience.
Micaiah closed the door and followed her across the rug to the fireplace. The flames burned low, the wood almost ash, crumbling at her approach and sending sparks drifting up the chimney. The mantle clock ticked, and aside from her breathing, and Sanaki's own, the room was quiet. Their companions weren't talking outside. There were no sounds drifting up from the garden or the city as they used to.
"You could have been nicer about it," Micaiah said. "He would have stepped aside if you simply asked."
Sanaki reached up and fingered the polished wood of the mantle, pressing her fingertips to the edge. She was the empress. She did not ask - she commanded, and expected results. She spoke, and others fell silent. Was that going to change? Was it all false - all his presence, rather than her authority? Given the choice now she wouldn't want to hear the voice of any goddess, but the masses were ignorant. What did they know of the makings of a real queen? As long as one spoke Ashera's name with authority they believed.
She turned her back to the fire. "Are you going to stay in Begnion?"
Micaiah's brows drew together. She fiddled with a ring. "No."
Sanaki watched her hands, gaze lingering on the brand. Her grandmother must have had one just like it. "Why not?" She looked at Micaiah's face. She had the same eyes - and Misaha was said to have silver hair. The few paintings they had of Apostles, those that survived the fires and decay of time, spoke of a long line of pale-haired women. How was it Sephiran deceived them all this time? "You are the Apostle. Begnion needs its rightful ruler."
"Begnion has you." Micaiah didn't even hesitate. "They don't want me."
Sanaki clenched her teeth hard, until pain shot to her temple. "Are you giving up--"
"It was never mine," Micaiah said, raising her voice. Her hands stilled and clenched at her sides. "It doesn't matter who my ancestors were. Daein is my homeland, and that's where I'm going as soon as dawn breaks. If you really want to serve your country, start by acknowledging the rest of us and fostering better relations. The only way to heal the rifts between our people is to treat each other with respect, and you know that. I know he taught you, or you wouldn't have marched with laguz."
Already she spoke as Daein's queen. The reality was only days away - perhaps a fortnight if King Pelleas was weak, but in this case Sanaki thought the situation was clear enough to him. He would be glad to give up kingship. She looked at him and saw a child thrust into an adult's role, a commoner into a king's robes.
How pathetic that she felt so little distance between Pelleas and herself.
But Sanaki didn't want to give it up. She could change Begnion - her people were ready to break out of the stasis imposed upon them by Ashera's sleep. Laguz could be invited back into the fold, and if they wouldn't be welcome, they would at least be tolerated and treated like human beings. That was all she ever wanted. Not because Sephiran said so, but because a person should be punished according to their deeds, not blood, or tradition, or the misuse of religious precepts. All this time her ancestors were silent, but that stopped here - right here, with Micaiah and her brand, and the herons of Serenes.
"I wouldn't deny you your birthright if you wanted it." Sanaki turned back to the fire. It had nearly burned out, but she didn't have the energy to reach for the tongs and add more fuel. "It won't be easy to right the senate's crimes. I wanted to start with you."
Micaiah came up behind her, warm against her arm. "You're trying to do the right thing." She twined her arm around Sanaki's and clasped her hand. "But you know where you should really start, don't you?"
Her fingertips brushed the edge of her sister's brand. The lines blurred, the fire became a smear of glowing red and ash. The shape was somewhat reminiscent of Sephiran, now that she had the chance to examine it up close, unmoving. She could imagine him transforming in a swirl of light and wind, spreading his wings, and flying away just like that.
Sanaki closed her eyes, let the tears squeeze out between her lids and slide over her cheeks, and nodded, gripping Micaiah's hand tightly. Of course she knew what to do. She was going to do it without him and without the goddess. She and Begnion would stand on their own.
.................................................
I'm harping on this topic a lot. That must mean I haven't gotten it right yet.
It's hard to write an essay when your brain keeps going, "but what about that epilogue conversation you wanted to write about...?" This made me really sad, though.
BACK TO MIDTERMS.
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: November 4 - competence as a compensation for loneliness (how can i possibly be lonely?)
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Micaiah
Rating: K
Words: 1650
Notes: this was actually inspired by the 'choices' prompt at
fe_drabble. Also for my Nano count, which means I'm writing fast and not really caring how good it is - everything I post this month will be like that, so consider yourself warned.The script gets the finger from me, because I hate repeating game dialogue.
Yet another 'dawn' title. I know, I know.
.............................................
Sanaki lit a half stick of incense with the candle on her table and fit it into a glass holder. The tower was silent and Sephiran was gone, and her allies took up residence in rooms that once belonged to senators, priests - traitors. The resinous scent reminded her of ceremonies led in the arena, and prayers that had never been answered.
She'd tried so hard to make up for her deficiencies - for being deaf to the goddess, for instance, and unable to predict the earthquake that struck Asmin in 642, or the tsunami that wrecked twenty-five miles of the southern coastline and displaced thousands. Sephiran promised it would come to her in time, and Lekain dutifully repeated the lie-- until he didn't, and she'd run from the capitol with nothing but her life and what she could carry on a pegasus, which wasn't much: a tome, Ragnell, a few trinkets. Her pride trailed in tatters behind her.
It was so much harder to call herself 'empress' after all she'd heard. Sanaki promised herself she wouldn't dwell on it when she left him behind outside of Ashera's chamber, but her will wasn't strong enough this time. When they entered the cathedral, after Ike and his mercenaries searched every cranny to assure their safety, she saw the sculpture celebrating the Four Heroes in the grand foyer and remembered standing there as a child, her hand in Sephiran's, hearing the story for the first time. She went straight to her rooms, outpacing Sigrun and Tanith, and stood in the doorway to stare at the tapestry over the fireplace, purchased in Melior on one of his sabbaticals, depicting a lady and her faithful servant.
He lied. Lies weren't a rare commodity in Sienne; he'd lied on her behalf many times, convincing nobles to donate money or influence with his pale smile and a soft touch of the hand. Even the men were susceptible to his charm.
Sanaki had never thought of herself in such a light. He called himself merely another tool to fit in her hand, a weapon to wield against the senate, and perhaps it was that promise of faith that seduced her, made with his hands smoothing her hair, cupping her chin. The night before he was supposed to leave for Daein, the night they were ambushed in the corridor and separated, he'd promised on bent knee they would fall, all of them. She couldn't call him a liar for that either, because he'd managed it. He'd managed quite a few things; he managed to betray her while making it sound as if his actions were for her own good.
Three doors down the hallway, in rooms meant for family, Micaiah was sleeping - or perhaps staying up and thinking, just like Sanaki was. The incense burned itself out and she stood up, gathering her robe, tying it tightly closed. The red mantle was another of his gifts, commissioned for her last birthday when she outgrew the other. Its weight made her think she was warm, though her fingers were still ice cold. She swept it onto her shoulders and marched out - again outpacing Tanith, despite the knight's complaints - down the hallway, to Micaiah's door. Her knock was sharp and hardly polite. It left her knuckles stinging.
She heard talking beyond the door, the tone of it annoyed, and then it was opened-- by Sothe. Micaiah waited behind him, hands on her hips. "Your majesty." His tone was almost grudging - as if she needed reminding of what they all heard at the top of the tower. "Can I help you?"
"If you don't mind," Sanaki said, lifting her chin, "I want to speak with my sister. You--" she pointed at the wall by the door, opposite to Tanith's position, "--can stay out here."
Sothe took a step toward her. "Look, I don't care whose empress you are, you have no right to tell me--"
"Sleep outside if you don't like it." Sanaki raised her hand to halt Tanith when she straightened. Even if it was just to give him a piece of her mind, she didn't want to draw any more attention to this meeting. "This will only take a moment. You can sit still for a few minutes, can't you?"
"Sothe." Micaiah touched his arm, and he jerked it to his side with a muttered fine and stalked to the spot indicated for him, leaning against the wall, hands hooked on his belt.
His sidelong glance reminded Sanaki of that assassin Ike hired, and she hurried inside, a wave of her hand bidding Tanith to wait and listen - and to hold Sothe down if necessary. It really would only be a minute, and she didn't want an audience.
Micaiah closed the door and followed her across the rug to the fireplace. The flames burned low, the wood almost ash, crumbling at her approach and sending sparks drifting up the chimney. The mantle clock ticked, and aside from her breathing, and Sanaki's own, the room was quiet. Their companions weren't talking outside. There were no sounds drifting up from the garden or the city as they used to.
"You could have been nicer about it," Micaiah said. "He would have stepped aside if you simply asked."
Sanaki reached up and fingered the polished wood of the mantle, pressing her fingertips to the edge. She was the empress. She did not ask - she commanded, and expected results. She spoke, and others fell silent. Was that going to change? Was it all false - all his presence, rather than her authority? Given the choice now she wouldn't want to hear the voice of any goddess, but the masses were ignorant. What did they know of the makings of a real queen? As long as one spoke Ashera's name with authority they believed.
She turned her back to the fire. "Are you going to stay in Begnion?"
Micaiah's brows drew together. She fiddled with a ring. "No."
Sanaki watched her hands, gaze lingering on the brand. Her grandmother must have had one just like it. "Why not?" She looked at Micaiah's face. She had the same eyes - and Misaha was said to have silver hair. The few paintings they had of Apostles, those that survived the fires and decay of time, spoke of a long line of pale-haired women. How was it Sephiran deceived them all this time? "You are the Apostle. Begnion needs its rightful ruler."
"Begnion has you." Micaiah didn't even hesitate. "They don't want me."
Sanaki clenched her teeth hard, until pain shot to her temple. "Are you giving up--"
"It was never mine," Micaiah said, raising her voice. Her hands stilled and clenched at her sides. "It doesn't matter who my ancestors were. Daein is my homeland, and that's where I'm going as soon as dawn breaks. If you really want to serve your country, start by acknowledging the rest of us and fostering better relations. The only way to heal the rifts between our people is to treat each other with respect, and you know that. I know he taught you, or you wouldn't have marched with laguz."
Already she spoke as Daein's queen. The reality was only days away - perhaps a fortnight if King Pelleas was weak, but in this case Sanaki thought the situation was clear enough to him. He would be glad to give up kingship. She looked at him and saw a child thrust into an adult's role, a commoner into a king's robes.
How pathetic that she felt so little distance between Pelleas and herself.
But Sanaki didn't want to give it up. She could change Begnion - her people were ready to break out of the stasis imposed upon them by Ashera's sleep. Laguz could be invited back into the fold, and if they wouldn't be welcome, they would at least be tolerated and treated like human beings. That was all she ever wanted. Not because Sephiran said so, but because a person should be punished according to their deeds, not blood, or tradition, or the misuse of religious precepts. All this time her ancestors were silent, but that stopped here - right here, with Micaiah and her brand, and the herons of Serenes.
"I wouldn't deny you your birthright if you wanted it." Sanaki turned back to the fire. It had nearly burned out, but she didn't have the energy to reach for the tongs and add more fuel. "It won't be easy to right the senate's crimes. I wanted to start with you."
Micaiah came up behind her, warm against her arm. "You're trying to do the right thing." She twined her arm around Sanaki's and clasped her hand. "But you know where you should really start, don't you?"
Her fingertips brushed the edge of her sister's brand. The lines blurred, the fire became a smear of glowing red and ash. The shape was somewhat reminiscent of Sephiran, now that she had the chance to examine it up close, unmoving. She could imagine him transforming in a swirl of light and wind, spreading his wings, and flying away just like that.
Sanaki closed her eyes, let the tears squeeze out between her lids and slide over her cheeks, and nodded, gripping Micaiah's hand tightly. Of course she knew what to do. She was going to do it without him and without the goddess. She and Begnion would stand on their own.
.................................................
I'm harping on this topic a lot. That must mean I haven't gotten it right yet.
It's hard to write an essay when your brain keeps going, "but what about that epilogue conversation you wanted to write about...?" This made me really sad, though.
BACK TO MIDTERMS.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-11-05 12:00 pm (UTC)though this one line 'The reality was only days away - perhaps weak if King Pelleas was weak,' confuses me. Were you trying to say 'perhaps weeks if King Pelleas was weak' or was weak intended?
no subject
Date: 2008-11-06 07:22 am (UTC)When I finished this I felt like Sanaki was angsting too much. Now I read it and think it moves too fast for that - possibly too fast in general, but that can be fixed by fiddling with the words.
I'm kind of obsessed with the relationship they'd have. Sanaki would probably be happy to find she has family, especially since she has to lose Sephiran either way (he dies or he leaves), but at the same time Micaiah represents all of the things she isn't - things she was punished for not being, basically, when the senate tried to overthrow her. And when Sephiran comes out with his betrayal, too. She'd find it hard to like Micaiah, I think, and hard not to feel inadequate. Sanaki tends not to feel inadequacy, but this transcends her normal situation.
Now, I think she'd absolutely rebel against feeling like that, and hate it, and turn it into whipping the government into shape, but I think it'd still be lurking at that back of her mind.
Oh sleep. ;_; I miss you.