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runicloreJudgment
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9/10
Theme: 08 - our own world
Words: 4504
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: based on speculation about what could have happened if the events late in Radiant Dawn happend earlier - with the obligatory pairing bias, of course. At the moment I'm referring to it as the 'Elysium AU.' Suggestions welcome. The only thing I suck at more than summaries is titles.
Also, for Nanowrimo. 50K at all would be an accomplishment, and this is one of many parts of that word count.
.......................................
Sanaki was jolted out of her dreams by the bright light of morning and the sudden shift of the body cushioning her head. She wanted Lekain to keep drowning in his pool of butter like she'd imagined the night before when the thick square she cut from the dish melted between the halves of her potato - before Sephiran told her she really should eat, unless she wasn't hungry and didn't want dessert. He'd laughed when she told him what it made her think of. She blinked, yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes and rolling onto her back to stare up at his face. She'd tell him what he interrupted with his inconsiderate movement--
--but it was dark when she opened her eyes, and Sephiran's face was turned away from her so he could stare over the back of the divan, out the window. There was an echo in her ears, as if he'd just spoken, or someone had shouted in her ear. His hand on her middle was still, as if he'd been turned to stone. He was barely breathing. The light of the candle pulsed, undulated, and steadied, and the shadows danced with it, making him appear to be frowning and afraid by turns.
"Why..." Sanaki reached up to tug on his collar, but hooked her fingers between the buttons instead. "I thought it was morning."
He turned back to her. His lips parted like he would say something, but he hesitated. He combed her bangs straight with his fingers. "It was, for a moment."
She frowned. "How can it be morning for only a moment?" The windows were still black, the curtains lit from the inside by the candle and the fire burning low in the hearth. There were still lights on in the city - there always were, even in the dead of winter - but they were faint stars beyond the glass. She looked at him again, and when he didn't answer Sanaki twisted onto her stomach and climbed into his lap so he would have to look at her face to face. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you saying anything?"
Sephiran shook his head, averting his eyes. "It seems the war is over."
Sanaki bit her lip and worked the skin beneath her teeth. He didn't seem to be lying. She didn't think he could ever lie, except that she'd seen him do exactly that when one of the senators stopped them in the hall and Sephiran claimed she had to sign the tax bill and its relevant documents, when she really just wanted a nap. "Isn't that a good thing?"
He slid his arm under her legs and scooped her up, rising from the divan and letting her blanket slide over her feet and onto the cushions. "Perhaps." He walked her across the room to her bedroom door and nudged it open with his foot. "Why don't you get dressed, and we shall see."
Her room was dark, lit from the dimness in the parlor. He lowered her to the bed and asked her to light the wick of her oil lamp as he'd taught her, by focusing on the single, tiny point and summoning the magic by increments. She was getting better at it; a year ago she couldn't have lit even a messy fire, but now she could summon flames one spark at a time, to light a lamp or ignite the wood in the fireplace, or to burn a scarecrow set up in the practice yards for her magic practice. She'd reduced the last one to ash with one strike.
Sephiran chose one of her formal ensembles, the one she wore only for the high holidays when she led ceremonies in honor of the goddess. It was the most beautiful thing she owned, the robes layered from light to dark in shades of tyrian purple, and the outermost layer was so deep a purple she knew, even though she was just a child, it must have been worth more than the entire imperial treasury. He helped her dress, combed her hair loose around her shoulders. The robes smelled like cedar and lemongrass from being packed in a chest most of the year. She wrinkled her nose, and he smiled for the first time in what seemed ages.
"Won't you explain?" Sanaki sat on the edge of her bed while he used her wooden comb to detangle his own hair. "How do you know the war is over?"
He slid the comb onto her night table and swung the dark curtain of his hair back. "The light. It can't mean anything else."
She reached for his sleeve. "What light? Sephiran--"
Sephiran took her hand and pulled Sanaki to her feet. "Come. I'll show you."
.
The Tower of Guidance was darker than her bedroom was when his spell let them go and Sanaki looked around to get her bearings. There were spheres of light at the door before them, some meters away, and others behind them, and some above, suspended below the buttresses, but their light was cold and violet. The tiles were blue, the stone was dark, and their footsteps echoed endlessly when Sephiran led her forward, until she thought an entire army should be behind them. The steps to the door were slightly too big for her. She pulled the hem of her robes up to climb them, and he waited patiently, moving slowly to accommodate her.
Why were they here? Why the tower? Were they even allowed to enter when they weren't there to pray? The questions jumbled in her throat and refused to be swallowed. Yet if she opened her mouth to say anything, it would echo back at her in a voice that belonged to the dark, or maybe even be swallowed by their footsteps.
This wasn't the first floor, where she usually conducted ceremonies. Sanaki looked back and saw a stair landing, and the darkness beyond the ledge was deep, the columns marching down until they and their lightless spheres also disappeared into the gloom. The door in front of her was carved with tropical leaves and the sun and moon, more elaborate than any of the others she remembered. It didn't have handles. She looked up at Sephiran.
"It will open for you," he said, releasing her hand. "Push."
But where are we? Sanaki climbed the last step and raised both hands to press on the spot he indicated, where the carvings faded to a smooth plane and framed the shape of Ashera's rood. A seam slashed through the center before her fingers brushed the stone. She jolted back into Sephiran, who had stepped up behind her, and gripped his hand.
The carven doors parted silently. He went forward without hesitation and Sanaki had to follow, holding his fingers tightly and taking long strides to keep up. She didn't know this room. It was large and empty but for a platform at the center curtained with pale, gauzy silk the color of cream, lit from within. The walls arched to an apex lost in darkness. Was this the altar she'd never seen, the one Altina was said to make offerings on? "Seph--"
Breathing.
The chill air crept over her skin and prickled her arms and neck. Breathing? Her hands felt clammy. She heard it coming from behind the curtains and yanked Sephiran's arm until he stopped.
"Sanaki." His voice was low, short. Not empress, not your majesty, or even my lady. She couldn't remember the last time he'd addressed her by name. Not since she ascended the throne - a whole year. He pulled, his grip suddenly strong, and she stumbled forward.
Gold and silver tinkled like bells. Two hands parted the curtain, and Sanaki squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. The light was gently warm, like a breath of desert air and a touch of rain, but it pierced her eyelids until she saw stars. Sephiran pressed her down to her knees, but he let her hide her face in his hair and took her hand again, stroking her fingers with his thumb. She took a deep breath, and another and another, until she felt dizzy.
"You should have wakened me earlier, Lehran."
Sanaki's heart stuttered. His reply sounded far away behind the rush of blood in her ears. "Please forgive me, Lady Ashera. I was not able to."
Ashera? That couldn't be right. She shuddered and clenched her teeth together so they wouldn't chatter. It wasn't right, that couldn't be true. Ashera?
The light had faded to a tolerable level. Sanaki turned her head, throat so tense she couldn't have spoken even if she wanted to, and looked. There were likenesses of the goddess in the cathedral, and stories that described her in poetic and glorious words, and what she saw before her was nothing like them. There was no raiment of light or sun, no stars worshiping her beauty. Her hair was long, the color of flame. She was garbed more simply than Sanaki had ever been allowed, all in black, adorned with chains and charms and feathers. She could have been a haughty noblewoman.
But her skin was white, and it gleamed, like she contained the sun behind her eyes. The crimson gaze pierced Sanaki to the heart and made her eyes burn with tears.
She never wanted to look into those eyes again.
Her wish was not to be granted.
.
Sanaki didn't like Ashera. Her warmth was like the sun; gentle, nourishing, the goddess's aura might shine on her like a benevolent spring day, but it flared when she grew angry - and yes, the goddess did know anger, though she didn't call it that - and scorched and pierced the eyes, leaving after-images in Ashera's perfect shape. Her voice had no inflection. Her hands, in contrast to her aura, were cold as stone. She only touched Sanaki once, cold fingertips pressing into her forehead, flat alto murmuring something she didn't understand. Sephiran carried her home in the silence of that first night and sat with her by the fire, his embrace strong, while she shivered in the cold and her skin burned. His lips pressed to the place the goddess touched her, a soft kiss, and for a moment she felt cool, like he submerged her in water.
He left without a word in the middle of that night, after her fever broke and her eyes drooped closed. She woke in her bed alone and screamed, called for him, shrieking at the top of her lungs until Sigrun and Tanith ran in with swords drawn. They didn't relax, even when they saw the room was empty. He left, Sigrun said, kneeling at the bedside and clasping her hands. He'll be back, I promise. He said so. Please stop crying, he'll be back-- When Sanaki demanded they send a servant to retrieve him right then, however, her knight fell silent.
There was no one to send. No, she couldn't go outside to see for herself. There were some things a young girl should never see, even if that young girl was an empress. Sigrun wouldn't tell her what those things were when asked, and Tanith had already left the room to return to her post. The senior knight helped her dress and left her at the table in silence.
A trainee named Marcia brought her breakfast. The girl was perhaps twice Sanaki's age, and she said the royal guard was fine, and some of Sephiran's people were walking about on business, but the others--
-- and she stopped, because Tanith came in. Marcia turned back to bow and hurried out. Daylight glowed in the gaps between her heavy red curtains and pooled on the floor where they hung a fingers-breadth above the carpet.
Sanaki pried a flaky piece from her biscuit and pushed it between her lips. Her mouth was too dry; there was no juice, no tea. There was water, but it tasted flat, and there was no ice to cool it. She waited until Tanith knelt, then asked, "Why won't you tell me anything?"
Tanith bowed her head. "I'm sorry, your majesty." Her eyes were hidden behind her bangs, but she was clearly biting her lip, and she looked aside - at the empty chair, and the coat folded over it, evidence Sigrun's earlier reassurances were true. "I'm sorry, but we can't tell you what happened. Nobody knows."
Sanaki wanted to ask how something so dire could happen and leave everybody in the dark without servants, without work, without news. They knew something, because there were things they wouldn't tell her, like what had happened to her household, and why there was no reason to go downstairs and sit in on a dull meeting with the senior council. She certainly didn't desire to do so, but Sephiran always said she should see to her duty no matter how boring it was, because nobody had responsibility as great as hers and she must be strong enough to carry it. He knew what had happened. He and Ashera spoke as if they understood each other. When he outlined the war, when he told the goddess of the massacre and the long war with Gallia, it was past tense.
It seems the war is over.
Impossible. Even Sanaki knew wars didn't suddenly end, just like that, in a flash of light.
She didn't ask after all. One of the first things Sephiran taught her was how to observe a person's expressions and habits, to see when they were nervous. Tanith was tense, but Sanaki didn't think she was lying, so she sent her away and tried to finish breakfast. It didn't taste very good; the bread was too dry, and the berry sauce was too tart. She wondered who made it if they didn't have any servants.
There was a copy of the Mainal Testaments on the middle shelf of her bookcase that they read from every night, named for the place Sienne used to be before Begnion existed, and written by Lehran. She pulled it down and took it to her table, shoving her plate away, and tried to find the pages Sephiran had read from when he spoke of the goddess's awakening. The ancient script was still so difficult, and the language was archaic; there were many things she didn't recognize on first glance, and parts she didn't think he'd shown her, though they'd had more than enough time to go through all of it.
The people of Tyre so angered the goddess of dawn with their wars she shattered their monuments with her voice, and her reproach became a song that flooded the earth. Waves lapped the mountaintops and forests drowned...
Sanaki knew the story of the flood, though he never mentioned it was the work of a song. She used to wish Tyre still existed, so she could see the broken monuments and explore their mountain tombs, with their labyrinths and traps and deadly snakes. The mountains must have survived, she told Sephiran, and he'd shrugged. It was across the eastern ocean. They had no way of knowing.
There is an ocean to the east? she remembered asking. But our explorers can only see mountains.
She was reading a passage about a goddess she'd never heard of, the characters too complicated for her to read without help, when she heard the door open, close, and heard the footsteps she associated with Sephiran. The light behind her curtains had lost the cool tinge of morning. The clock ticked loudly, but she didn't look up from the manuscript. Even when she heard him bend knee on the carpet, Sanaki kept her head down, biting the inside of her lip and staring at the words. He deserved to wait. He was late. He'd made her kneel to that horrible goddess that couldn't be Ashera, and then he deserted her.
The clock chimed noon - he waited until noon to speak with her? - and Sanaki clenched her fists over the paper. "You have much to answer for, Sephiran." She turned in her chair. "You--"
"My name is not Sephiran."
He had wings. Her heart skipped and choked her. For a moment she sucked air in and out, her lips cracking when she bit into them. They were black, the wings; in the dim illumination from beneath the curtains they turned gray and blue and violet, the feathers slatting out and bending over the carpet. He'd cramped them against his back to lift them high as possible so they wouldn't press on the floor. It looked uncomfortable.
You should have wakened me earlier, Lehran.
Lies. Benevolent Ashera was a goddess of light and song, not the dark shadow Sanaki remembered from the night before.
The wings weren't real. Whoever made them deserved her patronage. Such skill--
"It was not a dream," he said, head bowed. His dark hair draped down his back and brushed on the floor, a veil. It hid his face from her. "You will have to accustom yourself to Lehran."
Sanaki's nails bit into her palms. "No."
His wing twitched. It looked like he took a deep breath, and then finally he looked up. "Sanaki--"
"Be quiet." She slid from her chair. Her teeth jarred. Even when he knelt, the wings arched higher than she was tall, blocking the light from the fireplace and casting their shadow on her, making it dark even though the afternoon light seeped in behind her. They couldn't be real - could they? She inched closer and reached up, rested her fingers on the hard arch. The wing trembled beneath her fingers, stilled, warm at the top where the thickest feathers were, and the lower layer was cool, thin, sharp. "You're a liar. This can't, it can't be--"
"If you would listen to me," he said, and in her peripheral vision she could see a line crease his brow. "Just listen for one--"
She picked a feather and yanked it out, jumped when he yelped and grabbed her hand. There was blood at the end - a single, gleaming drop the color of her mantle. Sanaki stared at it, crushing it in her grip, and her skin turned white at the press of his fingers.
The words I'm sorry were on the tip of her tongue. That must have stung. Then she looked at the hand she thought she knew - how many times did he smooth her brow when she couldn't sleep, when she was sick, when she had a bad dream - and she looked at his face, the pale, colorless skin--
No! She didn't know if she shouted or just thought the word. Sanaki pulled her wrist from his hold, spun, and ran to her room, slamming the door. She locked it. Maybe she imagined his voice coming through from the other side; she ignored it and crawled onto her bed, feather still clutched in her shaking hand.
That was not Ashera she saw, and he was not Lehran. He was Sephiran, and she was going to call him that no matter what he said.
.
Sanaki stayed in her room all day, ignoring Sephiran's knocks and pleading for her to come out. The feather was damaged in her grip, the iridescent barbs crushed, pulled out to litter her sheets. She sat with her back to the headboard, knees drawn up, and rested the remains on her lap, smoothing it flat with her hands. It was soft. It had been beautiful before she ruined it.
Sephiran was beautiful like his feather. No wonder. It all made-- no, no it did not make sense, she wasn't going to allow it to. Her eyes prickled and grew hot every time he tried to coax her out, but she shouted for him to go away and pulled her blankets up. As evening neared she didn't even bother with that. He could have used a spell to enter her room, she thought; why didn't he? If he were really interested in talking to her, a locked door was no obstacle.
Night fell, and Sigrun's voice came through the door when Sanaki's stomach was starting to growl. She knocked once. Please open the door, your majesty. If you don't, I will be forced to pry it open to be assured of your safety. There was a pause, and then she added, he isn't here.
Sanaki unlocked the door and let her knight open it. Her lamps were lit, and a single candle burned on the table by a plate of food. Steam curled and faded against the dark backdrop of her curtains. Tanith waited by the empty chair, hand on the polished wood frame.
"He will return soon," Sigrun said, tucking Sanaki's hair behind her ears. "If you want to avoid him, you should eat now."
She nodded and let herself be led to the table. Dinner was kabocha squash in a thin broth, soft and lightly salted, and much better than her morning meal. There was a plate of almond cookies, and another with slices of nectarine. When she asked who made it, Sigrun smiled, and Sanaki stared up at her, a piece of fruit halfway to her mouth. Tanith laughed and said she sliced the fruit herself, thank you - one should give credit where credit is due.
"Then you should have a cookie as your reward," Sanaki told her, and bit her smile back when the knight rolled her eyes - but she took one.
Sigrun left with her empty plates when Sanaki was done, and Tanith's smile cooled and faded until her face was blank. She watched the candle flame move, fingers rubbing the back of the chair she leaned against. "Your majesty..." The door opened again and her shoulders hunched. She said softly, almost whispering, "If you should ever wish to get away... Melior--"
"No!" The door slammed and Tanith jumped at Sephiran's voice. "She will do no such thing."
She pivoted on her heel and moved to block Sanaki's view. "That isn't for you to say."
She leaned forward to see around Tanith, digging her fingers into the knight's coat. Sephiran left the shadow of the foyer. His wings cast their shadows over his pale face, but the fire limned them with gold and orange at the edges, and suddenly the feathers seemed brown instead of black. His robes were gray, his hands covered to the knuckles with blue silk, and his eyes were narrowed at her guardian, unsmiling. "You were freed to protect the empress, not to spirit her away. She has work to do."
"Work?" Tanith's hand gripped her sword, but she let go when his wings spread and the wind of their movement brushed Sanaki's cheeks. Instead her hand clenched, the knuckles cracked. "What is she to do ruling a nation of stone? Polish their horrified faces?"
Bitterness crept into Sanaki's throat. She pressed her hands to her stomach and swallowed. Stone?
"A horror well-deserved," he snapped. She felt Tanith flinch and hid her face against the knight's back. "How do you suppose the herons of Serenes faced their murderers before the blades struck or the fire seared their feathers--"
"That isn't the same thing!"
"Ashera's judgment is just," he said. "There is where the difference lies."
Unforgivable, he said to her when she was small. They were in Persis, and it was winter, but the ground was never covered with snow there. The sun shined all year and ice crinkled in the grass every morning when she went out to check for white, but it never stayed past ten. The murder of innocents must never be allowed to go unpunished. Remember what I told you today.
Sanaki remembered. It was the only time she heard his voice rough, the only time she thought he might cry, his eyes shined so brightly.
"I am going to speak to my empress," Sephiran said, voice soft again. "You will return to your post. Remember there are others to replace you if necessary."
She felt Tanith stiffen, the muscles in her back knotting up, and thought she would yell - but in the space of a few breaths she had reached back, loosened Sanaki's grip on her coat, and turned around to offer her respects. "I'll be right outside if you need me," Tanith said, squeezing Sanaki's shoulder, and strode to the door without another glance at Sephiran.
Where did Sigrun go? Why wasn't she back? Sanaki wove her fingers together in her lap and stared at them. Did he send her away too, or tell her to wait outside? She watched him kneel through her lashes. This time he didn't bow his head, but looked straight at her.
"I'll be leaving for a while."
Sanaki's head snapped up. "What?" Her stomach twisted. The sick feeling was back. "Why? You said--"
"Ashera believes I will be more useful elsewhere." He sighed. "She is dissatisfied with my service."
The light smeared and he became a blur of grey and white. Hot tears flicked onto her cheeks when she tried to blink them away. "But that isn't fair. You can't go anywhere!" She shook her head, hair whipping her face. "Tell her you can't go!"
He rose, moved closer, and stilled the motion with his hands. "I'm afraid Ashera never changes her mind."
She glared through her tears. How could she be mad at him if he had to leave? How could she punish him when the goddess was doing it for her? And what kind of reason was that - dissatisfaction? He'd irritated her many times, and Sanaki was never stupid enough to send him away "Don't go," she said, grabbing one of his hands. Her tears welled up again. "Don't leave me with her."
"I'm sorry, Sanaki." Lehran bent down and kissed the crown of her head. "It won't be long, I promise."
.......................................................
I can't wait to read this and freak out about how much editing this needs. No time though, haha nano. :D I know these 30 Kisses fics are supposed to be good and stuff, but I think I'll be doing my converting with less fangirly stories. (Ha, I wish.)
I wonder if including this in every entry will be too much.
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9/10
Theme: 08 - our own world
Words: 4504
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: based on speculation about what could have happened if the events late in Radiant Dawn happend earlier - with the obligatory pairing bias, of course. At the moment I'm referring to it as the 'Elysium AU.' Suggestions welcome. The only thing I suck at more than summaries is titles.
Also, for Nanowrimo. 50K at all would be an accomplishment, and this is one of many parts of that word count.
.......................................
Sanaki was jolted out of her dreams by the bright light of morning and the sudden shift of the body cushioning her head. She wanted Lekain to keep drowning in his pool of butter like she'd imagined the night before when the thick square she cut from the dish melted between the halves of her potato - before Sephiran told her she really should eat, unless she wasn't hungry and didn't want dessert. He'd laughed when she told him what it made her think of. She blinked, yawned, rubbing sleep from her eyes and rolling onto her back to stare up at his face. She'd tell him what he interrupted with his inconsiderate movement--
--but it was dark when she opened her eyes, and Sephiran's face was turned away from her so he could stare over the back of the divan, out the window. There was an echo in her ears, as if he'd just spoken, or someone had shouted in her ear. His hand on her middle was still, as if he'd been turned to stone. He was barely breathing. The light of the candle pulsed, undulated, and steadied, and the shadows danced with it, making him appear to be frowning and afraid by turns.
"Why..." Sanaki reached up to tug on his collar, but hooked her fingers between the buttons instead. "I thought it was morning."
He turned back to her. His lips parted like he would say something, but he hesitated. He combed her bangs straight with his fingers. "It was, for a moment."
She frowned. "How can it be morning for only a moment?" The windows were still black, the curtains lit from the inside by the candle and the fire burning low in the hearth. There were still lights on in the city - there always were, even in the dead of winter - but they were faint stars beyond the glass. She looked at him again, and when he didn't answer Sanaki twisted onto her stomach and climbed into his lap so he would have to look at her face to face. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you saying anything?"
Sephiran shook his head, averting his eyes. "It seems the war is over."
Sanaki bit her lip and worked the skin beneath her teeth. He didn't seem to be lying. She didn't think he could ever lie, except that she'd seen him do exactly that when one of the senators stopped them in the hall and Sephiran claimed she had to sign the tax bill and its relevant documents, when she really just wanted a nap. "Isn't that a good thing?"
He slid his arm under her legs and scooped her up, rising from the divan and letting her blanket slide over her feet and onto the cushions. "Perhaps." He walked her across the room to her bedroom door and nudged it open with his foot. "Why don't you get dressed, and we shall see."
Her room was dark, lit from the dimness in the parlor. He lowered her to the bed and asked her to light the wick of her oil lamp as he'd taught her, by focusing on the single, tiny point and summoning the magic by increments. She was getting better at it; a year ago she couldn't have lit even a messy fire, but now she could summon flames one spark at a time, to light a lamp or ignite the wood in the fireplace, or to burn a scarecrow set up in the practice yards for her magic practice. She'd reduced the last one to ash with one strike.
Sephiran chose one of her formal ensembles, the one she wore only for the high holidays when she led ceremonies in honor of the goddess. It was the most beautiful thing she owned, the robes layered from light to dark in shades of tyrian purple, and the outermost layer was so deep a purple she knew, even though she was just a child, it must have been worth more than the entire imperial treasury. He helped her dress, combed her hair loose around her shoulders. The robes smelled like cedar and lemongrass from being packed in a chest most of the year. She wrinkled her nose, and he smiled for the first time in what seemed ages.
"Won't you explain?" Sanaki sat on the edge of her bed while he used her wooden comb to detangle his own hair. "How do you know the war is over?"
He slid the comb onto her night table and swung the dark curtain of his hair back. "The light. It can't mean anything else."
She reached for his sleeve. "What light? Sephiran--"
Sephiran took her hand and pulled Sanaki to her feet. "Come. I'll show you."
.
The Tower of Guidance was darker than her bedroom was when his spell let them go and Sanaki looked around to get her bearings. There were spheres of light at the door before them, some meters away, and others behind them, and some above, suspended below the buttresses, but their light was cold and violet. The tiles were blue, the stone was dark, and their footsteps echoed endlessly when Sephiran led her forward, until she thought an entire army should be behind them. The steps to the door were slightly too big for her. She pulled the hem of her robes up to climb them, and he waited patiently, moving slowly to accommodate her.
Why were they here? Why the tower? Were they even allowed to enter when they weren't there to pray? The questions jumbled in her throat and refused to be swallowed. Yet if she opened her mouth to say anything, it would echo back at her in a voice that belonged to the dark, or maybe even be swallowed by their footsteps.
This wasn't the first floor, where she usually conducted ceremonies. Sanaki looked back and saw a stair landing, and the darkness beyond the ledge was deep, the columns marching down until they and their lightless spheres also disappeared into the gloom. The door in front of her was carved with tropical leaves and the sun and moon, more elaborate than any of the others she remembered. It didn't have handles. She looked up at Sephiran.
"It will open for you," he said, releasing her hand. "Push."
But where are we? Sanaki climbed the last step and raised both hands to press on the spot he indicated, where the carvings faded to a smooth plane and framed the shape of Ashera's rood. A seam slashed through the center before her fingers brushed the stone. She jolted back into Sephiran, who had stepped up behind her, and gripped his hand.
The carven doors parted silently. He went forward without hesitation and Sanaki had to follow, holding his fingers tightly and taking long strides to keep up. She didn't know this room. It was large and empty but for a platform at the center curtained with pale, gauzy silk the color of cream, lit from within. The walls arched to an apex lost in darkness. Was this the altar she'd never seen, the one Altina was said to make offerings on? "Seph--"
Breathing.
The chill air crept over her skin and prickled her arms and neck. Breathing? Her hands felt clammy. She heard it coming from behind the curtains and yanked Sephiran's arm until he stopped.
"Sanaki." His voice was low, short. Not empress, not your majesty, or even my lady. She couldn't remember the last time he'd addressed her by name. Not since she ascended the throne - a whole year. He pulled, his grip suddenly strong, and she stumbled forward.
Gold and silver tinkled like bells. Two hands parted the curtain, and Sanaki squeezed her eyes shut and turned her face away. The light was gently warm, like a breath of desert air and a touch of rain, but it pierced her eyelids until she saw stars. Sephiran pressed her down to her knees, but he let her hide her face in his hair and took her hand again, stroking her fingers with his thumb. She took a deep breath, and another and another, until she felt dizzy.
"You should have wakened me earlier, Lehran."
Sanaki's heart stuttered. His reply sounded far away behind the rush of blood in her ears. "Please forgive me, Lady Ashera. I was not able to."
Ashera? That couldn't be right. She shuddered and clenched her teeth together so they wouldn't chatter. It wasn't right, that couldn't be true. Ashera?
The light had faded to a tolerable level. Sanaki turned her head, throat so tense she couldn't have spoken even if she wanted to, and looked. There were likenesses of the goddess in the cathedral, and stories that described her in poetic and glorious words, and what she saw before her was nothing like them. There was no raiment of light or sun, no stars worshiping her beauty. Her hair was long, the color of flame. She was garbed more simply than Sanaki had ever been allowed, all in black, adorned with chains and charms and feathers. She could have been a haughty noblewoman.
But her skin was white, and it gleamed, like she contained the sun behind her eyes. The crimson gaze pierced Sanaki to the heart and made her eyes burn with tears.
She never wanted to look into those eyes again.
Her wish was not to be granted.
.
Sanaki didn't like Ashera. Her warmth was like the sun; gentle, nourishing, the goddess's aura might shine on her like a benevolent spring day, but it flared when she grew angry - and yes, the goddess did know anger, though she didn't call it that - and scorched and pierced the eyes, leaving after-images in Ashera's perfect shape. Her voice had no inflection. Her hands, in contrast to her aura, were cold as stone. She only touched Sanaki once, cold fingertips pressing into her forehead, flat alto murmuring something she didn't understand. Sephiran carried her home in the silence of that first night and sat with her by the fire, his embrace strong, while she shivered in the cold and her skin burned. His lips pressed to the place the goddess touched her, a soft kiss, and for a moment she felt cool, like he submerged her in water.
He left without a word in the middle of that night, after her fever broke and her eyes drooped closed. She woke in her bed alone and screamed, called for him, shrieking at the top of her lungs until Sigrun and Tanith ran in with swords drawn. They didn't relax, even when they saw the room was empty. He left, Sigrun said, kneeling at the bedside and clasping her hands. He'll be back, I promise. He said so. Please stop crying, he'll be back-- When Sanaki demanded they send a servant to retrieve him right then, however, her knight fell silent.
There was no one to send. No, she couldn't go outside to see for herself. There were some things a young girl should never see, even if that young girl was an empress. Sigrun wouldn't tell her what those things were when asked, and Tanith had already left the room to return to her post. The senior knight helped her dress and left her at the table in silence.
A trainee named Marcia brought her breakfast. The girl was perhaps twice Sanaki's age, and she said the royal guard was fine, and some of Sephiran's people were walking about on business, but the others--
-- and she stopped, because Tanith came in. Marcia turned back to bow and hurried out. Daylight glowed in the gaps between her heavy red curtains and pooled on the floor where they hung a fingers-breadth above the carpet.
Sanaki pried a flaky piece from her biscuit and pushed it between her lips. Her mouth was too dry; there was no juice, no tea. There was water, but it tasted flat, and there was no ice to cool it. She waited until Tanith knelt, then asked, "Why won't you tell me anything?"
Tanith bowed her head. "I'm sorry, your majesty." Her eyes were hidden behind her bangs, but she was clearly biting her lip, and she looked aside - at the empty chair, and the coat folded over it, evidence Sigrun's earlier reassurances were true. "I'm sorry, but we can't tell you what happened. Nobody knows."
Sanaki wanted to ask how something so dire could happen and leave everybody in the dark without servants, without work, without news. They knew something, because there were things they wouldn't tell her, like what had happened to her household, and why there was no reason to go downstairs and sit in on a dull meeting with the senior council. She certainly didn't desire to do so, but Sephiran always said she should see to her duty no matter how boring it was, because nobody had responsibility as great as hers and she must be strong enough to carry it. He knew what had happened. He and Ashera spoke as if they understood each other. When he outlined the war, when he told the goddess of the massacre and the long war with Gallia, it was past tense.
It seems the war is over.
Impossible. Even Sanaki knew wars didn't suddenly end, just like that, in a flash of light.
She didn't ask after all. One of the first things Sephiran taught her was how to observe a person's expressions and habits, to see when they were nervous. Tanith was tense, but Sanaki didn't think she was lying, so she sent her away and tried to finish breakfast. It didn't taste very good; the bread was too dry, and the berry sauce was too tart. She wondered who made it if they didn't have any servants.
There was a copy of the Mainal Testaments on the middle shelf of her bookcase that they read from every night, named for the place Sienne used to be before Begnion existed, and written by Lehran. She pulled it down and took it to her table, shoving her plate away, and tried to find the pages Sephiran had read from when he spoke of the goddess's awakening. The ancient script was still so difficult, and the language was archaic; there were many things she didn't recognize on first glance, and parts she didn't think he'd shown her, though they'd had more than enough time to go through all of it.
The people of Tyre so angered the goddess of dawn with their wars she shattered their monuments with her voice, and her reproach became a song that flooded the earth. Waves lapped the mountaintops and forests drowned...
Sanaki knew the story of the flood, though he never mentioned it was the work of a song. She used to wish Tyre still existed, so she could see the broken monuments and explore their mountain tombs, with their labyrinths and traps and deadly snakes. The mountains must have survived, she told Sephiran, and he'd shrugged. It was across the eastern ocean. They had no way of knowing.
There is an ocean to the east? she remembered asking. But our explorers can only see mountains.
She was reading a passage about a goddess she'd never heard of, the characters too complicated for her to read without help, when she heard the door open, close, and heard the footsteps she associated with Sephiran. The light behind her curtains had lost the cool tinge of morning. The clock ticked loudly, but she didn't look up from the manuscript. Even when she heard him bend knee on the carpet, Sanaki kept her head down, biting the inside of her lip and staring at the words. He deserved to wait. He was late. He'd made her kneel to that horrible goddess that couldn't be Ashera, and then he deserted her.
The clock chimed noon - he waited until noon to speak with her? - and Sanaki clenched her fists over the paper. "You have much to answer for, Sephiran." She turned in her chair. "You--"
"My name is not Sephiran."
He had wings. Her heart skipped and choked her. For a moment she sucked air in and out, her lips cracking when she bit into them. They were black, the wings; in the dim illumination from beneath the curtains they turned gray and blue and violet, the feathers slatting out and bending over the carpet. He'd cramped them against his back to lift them high as possible so they wouldn't press on the floor. It looked uncomfortable.
You should have wakened me earlier, Lehran.
Lies. Benevolent Ashera was a goddess of light and song, not the dark shadow Sanaki remembered from the night before.
The wings weren't real. Whoever made them deserved her patronage. Such skill--
"It was not a dream," he said, head bowed. His dark hair draped down his back and brushed on the floor, a veil. It hid his face from her. "You will have to accustom yourself to Lehran."
Sanaki's nails bit into her palms. "No."
His wing twitched. It looked like he took a deep breath, and then finally he looked up. "Sanaki--"
"Be quiet." She slid from her chair. Her teeth jarred. Even when he knelt, the wings arched higher than she was tall, blocking the light from the fireplace and casting their shadow on her, making it dark even though the afternoon light seeped in behind her. They couldn't be real - could they? She inched closer and reached up, rested her fingers on the hard arch. The wing trembled beneath her fingers, stilled, warm at the top where the thickest feathers were, and the lower layer was cool, thin, sharp. "You're a liar. This can't, it can't be--"
"If you would listen to me," he said, and in her peripheral vision she could see a line crease his brow. "Just listen for one--"
She picked a feather and yanked it out, jumped when he yelped and grabbed her hand. There was blood at the end - a single, gleaming drop the color of her mantle. Sanaki stared at it, crushing it in her grip, and her skin turned white at the press of his fingers.
The words I'm sorry were on the tip of her tongue. That must have stung. Then she looked at the hand she thought she knew - how many times did he smooth her brow when she couldn't sleep, when she was sick, when she had a bad dream - and she looked at his face, the pale, colorless skin--
No! She didn't know if she shouted or just thought the word. Sanaki pulled her wrist from his hold, spun, and ran to her room, slamming the door. She locked it. Maybe she imagined his voice coming through from the other side; she ignored it and crawled onto her bed, feather still clutched in her shaking hand.
That was not Ashera she saw, and he was not Lehran. He was Sephiran, and she was going to call him that no matter what he said.
.
Sanaki stayed in her room all day, ignoring Sephiran's knocks and pleading for her to come out. The feather was damaged in her grip, the iridescent barbs crushed, pulled out to litter her sheets. She sat with her back to the headboard, knees drawn up, and rested the remains on her lap, smoothing it flat with her hands. It was soft. It had been beautiful before she ruined it.
Sephiran was beautiful like his feather. No wonder. It all made-- no, no it did not make sense, she wasn't going to allow it to. Her eyes prickled and grew hot every time he tried to coax her out, but she shouted for him to go away and pulled her blankets up. As evening neared she didn't even bother with that. He could have used a spell to enter her room, she thought; why didn't he? If he were really interested in talking to her, a locked door was no obstacle.
Night fell, and Sigrun's voice came through the door when Sanaki's stomach was starting to growl. She knocked once. Please open the door, your majesty. If you don't, I will be forced to pry it open to be assured of your safety. There was a pause, and then she added, he isn't here.
Sanaki unlocked the door and let her knight open it. Her lamps were lit, and a single candle burned on the table by a plate of food. Steam curled and faded against the dark backdrop of her curtains. Tanith waited by the empty chair, hand on the polished wood frame.
"He will return soon," Sigrun said, tucking Sanaki's hair behind her ears. "If you want to avoid him, you should eat now."
She nodded and let herself be led to the table. Dinner was kabocha squash in a thin broth, soft and lightly salted, and much better than her morning meal. There was a plate of almond cookies, and another with slices of nectarine. When she asked who made it, Sigrun smiled, and Sanaki stared up at her, a piece of fruit halfway to her mouth. Tanith laughed and said she sliced the fruit herself, thank you - one should give credit where credit is due.
"Then you should have a cookie as your reward," Sanaki told her, and bit her smile back when the knight rolled her eyes - but she took one.
Sigrun left with her empty plates when Sanaki was done, and Tanith's smile cooled and faded until her face was blank. She watched the candle flame move, fingers rubbing the back of the chair she leaned against. "Your majesty..." The door opened again and her shoulders hunched. She said softly, almost whispering, "If you should ever wish to get away... Melior--"
"No!" The door slammed and Tanith jumped at Sephiran's voice. "She will do no such thing."
She pivoted on her heel and moved to block Sanaki's view. "That isn't for you to say."
She leaned forward to see around Tanith, digging her fingers into the knight's coat. Sephiran left the shadow of the foyer. His wings cast their shadows over his pale face, but the fire limned them with gold and orange at the edges, and suddenly the feathers seemed brown instead of black. His robes were gray, his hands covered to the knuckles with blue silk, and his eyes were narrowed at her guardian, unsmiling. "You were freed to protect the empress, not to spirit her away. She has work to do."
"Work?" Tanith's hand gripped her sword, but she let go when his wings spread and the wind of their movement brushed Sanaki's cheeks. Instead her hand clenched, the knuckles cracked. "What is she to do ruling a nation of stone? Polish their horrified faces?"
Bitterness crept into Sanaki's throat. She pressed her hands to her stomach and swallowed. Stone?
"A horror well-deserved," he snapped. She felt Tanith flinch and hid her face against the knight's back. "How do you suppose the herons of Serenes faced their murderers before the blades struck or the fire seared their feathers--"
"That isn't the same thing!"
"Ashera's judgment is just," he said. "There is where the difference lies."
Unforgivable, he said to her when she was small. They were in Persis, and it was winter, but the ground was never covered with snow there. The sun shined all year and ice crinkled in the grass every morning when she went out to check for white, but it never stayed past ten. The murder of innocents must never be allowed to go unpunished. Remember what I told you today.
Sanaki remembered. It was the only time she heard his voice rough, the only time she thought he might cry, his eyes shined so brightly.
"I am going to speak to my empress," Sephiran said, voice soft again. "You will return to your post. Remember there are others to replace you if necessary."
She felt Tanith stiffen, the muscles in her back knotting up, and thought she would yell - but in the space of a few breaths she had reached back, loosened Sanaki's grip on her coat, and turned around to offer her respects. "I'll be right outside if you need me," Tanith said, squeezing Sanaki's shoulder, and strode to the door without another glance at Sephiran.
Where did Sigrun go? Why wasn't she back? Sanaki wove her fingers together in her lap and stared at them. Did he send her away too, or tell her to wait outside? She watched him kneel through her lashes. This time he didn't bow his head, but looked straight at her.
"I'll be leaving for a while."
Sanaki's head snapped up. "What?" Her stomach twisted. The sick feeling was back. "Why? You said--"
"Ashera believes I will be more useful elsewhere." He sighed. "She is dissatisfied with my service."
The light smeared and he became a blur of grey and white. Hot tears flicked onto her cheeks when she tried to blink them away. "But that isn't fair. You can't go anywhere!" She shook her head, hair whipping her face. "Tell her you can't go!"
He rose, moved closer, and stilled the motion with his hands. "I'm afraid Ashera never changes her mind."
She glared through her tears. How could she be mad at him if he had to leave? How could she punish him when the goddess was doing it for her? And what kind of reason was that - dissatisfaction? He'd irritated her many times, and Sanaki was never stupid enough to send him away "Don't go," she said, grabbing one of his hands. Her tears welled up again. "Don't leave me with her."
"I'm sorry, Sanaki." Lehran bent down and kissed the crown of her head. "It won't be long, I promise."
.......................................................
I can't wait to read this and freak out about how much editing this needs. No time though, haha nano. :D I know these 30 Kisses fics are supposed to be good and stuff, but I think I'll be doing my converting with less fangirly stories. (Ha, I wish.)
I wonder if including this in every entry will be too much.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2008-11-07 12:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-07 10:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 12:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-08 12:52 am (UTC)Sanaki has two moms in Sigrun and Tanith. At least, I like the idea that she does.
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Date: 2008-11-13 05:50 pm (UTC)I have to say, the more bizarre thing in all of this was Lehran for me...
His apparency must be quite creepy for her, yet while her mind must reconsider everything, I can feel her heart's persistent trust.
Ah, It's beyond interesting... ! :D
(hope I have used accurate words)
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Date: 2008-11-15 11:16 pm (UTC)Thank you, I'm glad you liked it~
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Date: 2008-11-15 08:59 pm (UTC)Otherwise holy shit is this ever creepy. I've said for ages that Ashera is the Norman Bates of goddesses. This proves all too true just what a frightening, chilling deity she is. Sephiran/Lehran was just as chilling at times -- how he was at once remote and caring and how his perception changed in Sanaki's eyes, only to show that she really didn't want to be parted from him in the end.
Also, I'm almost done with another
Writing communities will be the death of both of us|!
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Date: 2008-11-15 11:14 pm (UTC)Hm, well. There will be more explicit kissing later? I actually think kisses to the hand/forehead can be overdone for this challenge since it's clearly a romantic one, but they can't get romantic until she's old enough. (I/S?) There are only so many ways you can do a kiss most of the time though. If the focus is the rest of the story and the kiss is just there to meet the requirements, and it doesn't even have to be the pairing in question... that's actually nicely flexible. Maybe somebody else can kiss!
This is much easier than
Yes, they will. Especially in November!
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Date: 2008-11-15 11:56 pm (UTC)Also 5? Really? Didn't you perchance think the Summer Chronicle was also 4? METHINKS YOU MAY BE UNDERESTIMATING THE SIZE. AGAIN.
(Ike/Soren :D) Well, to be fair
true, but how long can Ike and Soren keep running into Heather making out with random girls? After a while it'd look like she was purposefully making out in front of them--
Well, actually, if you don't have a set project it can be good for wordcount! It's exam time that you gotta step awayyyy from the communities.
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Date: 2008-11-16 12:54 am (UTC)Let's put it this way. If I ignore things like the complications with the surviving herons and Tibarn (because he probably wouldn't sit quietly after he figured things out), and the thing with Nailah and Rafiel probably wanting to cross the desert and find out what the hell is going on, and Naesala, and Micaiah/Yune, then it will fit into five installments. Maybe even four! I was, er, sort of planning on ignoring those things. *looks guilty* Otherwise, we'll have situations where Sanaki goes female heron?! *covers Lehran's eyes* and Naesala, go sabotage Tibarn's rebellion
and distract Leanneand... stuff.I kinda sorta thought it through.
Oh, right. Silly of me to miss that. My brain was reading the S as Sanaki or Sephiran. TUNNEL VISION, okay.
Heather isn't the only one who can be caught making out. There's Rhys and Lucia, for instance. :D :D :D