[30 Kisses][Fire Emblem] Believe
Dec. 27th, 2008 01:51 amBelieve
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9-10
Theme: 20 - the road home
Words: 3182
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: absolutely, positively innocent. I had a lot of trouble with this one, and I'm not sure why. My brain just would not spit out a title.
......................................................
It took most of a night to fly from Sienne to their manor in the provinces, and Sanaki fell asleep some time during the way to the sound of wing beats and air blowing past her ears, jingling the harnesses. She didn't yet have the stamina to ride all the way on her own, so it was the rhythm of a wyvern she learned that trip, leaning against Sephiran beneath the heavy, quilted folds of a gray cloak. She wanted a pegasus; her grandmother rode one, and her mother, and her mother before that - there were Apostles who rode into battle with their knights, every bit as skilled in riding and melee as they.
When you're older, he said when she demanded a mount of her own. Always 'when you're older.' She knew how to ride now.
The wyvern was warmer than a pegasus; the ride was smoother, the saddle more stable. She closed her eyes while they coasted above the clouds, the land covered in fog and moonlight, and awoke in her bed in Persis beneath two layers of blankets, dressed down to her shift. A fire was laid but unlit, and a dress hung on the changing screen beside her other affects. Sun shined through the lace curtains, and the clock read ten past eight.
She sat up quickly, her heart leaping, pounding, and she pressed her hands to her chest, took a deep breath. The second-hand ticked, barely audible. Someone called outside, a more distant voice answered, both muffled by the glass window. At Sienne she would be downstairs in a meeting already. Sanaki saw dawn break more often than not, the hands of her clock rarely past five thirty when she left her rooms.
She called for Sigrun. The minute hand ticked over one. Her legs were sore from being slung over a saddle, her back was stiff from sleeping while sitting up, and she winced when she pushed up to lean against the headboard. When the door opened and her knight looked in, she asked, "Why didn't someone wake me up? Am I late for anything?"
Sigrun stepped inside and closed the door. "Breakfast, maybe. I believe Lord Sephiran woke an hour ago."
Sanaki turned the duvet cover back to look at the reverse design. "Is there any business to be taken care of?"
"Ah." Sigrun bowed her head. "Not for you. He said you wanted to come along."
Sanaki kicked the covers open and slid out of bed. A thick red rug cushioned her feet, but she felt the cold tiles beneath the weave. "Is he waiting for me?" He should have sent someone. He should have told her more than 'there are matters I must attend to' when he offered to bring her over. "Help me dress. I shouldn't keep him."
The dress was light as a feather, the skirt layers of pale silk that floated and swirled around her ankles as she walked. It must have been new, because the wardrobe she'd maintained at the manor was at least two years old, and Sephiran told her she'd changed quite a bit since then. She was taller, he said, she'd even grown in the space of his last trip out of Begnion, and Sigrun told her she had begun to develop curves. They didn't show in her normal attire, but the dress was fitted to every one of them, and Sanaki stood in front of the mirror for a moment while her knight went to the dressing table for a brush and a ribbon, trying to decide if she wanted to change or search for a shawl. It was too warm. The manor was in the most hospitable part of the province, and it was always warm, even when it shouldn't be - autumn, winter.
The knight pulled Sanaki's hair back, and then she hurried out the door, down the hall to the duke's quarters. She could have walked it in her sleep. Sigrun was the only knight to accompany her, and when she entered his rooms, the door between the sitting area and the bedchamber was held open by a heavy leather chair she abhorred, and daylight bounced from the white walls into the dark entrance. Sanaki left Sigrun at the door and padded across the tiles, following the sound of Sephiran's voice and the scrape of metal armor.
"--sentence should be a simple matter. Have the magistrate watched, see if we can have him taken care of first."
She waited in the doorway, clasping her hands at her back. The general's upright posture was unmistakable, even in half armor, without a sword. He stood at rest, and Sephiran sat at a small, round table near the doors to the balcony, hair tied back, coat thrown over the back of his chair. Her fingers twitched to button the white collar of his shirt and crease it properly over his chest. It was a provincial matter he'd made the trip for; she listened to them discuss a legal case and examined the room, but everything appeared to be in place as he liked it. The bed was made, the books stacked neatly on his table, the oil in his lamp half-burned. His belongings were the only ones evident.
Sephiran's eyes slanted in her direction mid-sentence and he stopped, a teacup halfway to his mouth. "Your majesty." The cup clinked onto its saucer; Zelgius spun on his heel and somehow managed to turn the motion into a graceful bow. He was a shadow against the sunny backdrop of the cypress trees beyond the balcony.
"You should have sent someone for me." Sanaki inclined her head to Zelgius, motioned for him to straighten. "If I've delayed your business--"
"No." Sephiran beckoned her forward, reaching over a tray for the teacup turned down on its saucer at her place, his cuff links catching on the cloth covering. The cups were decorated with curling ferns painted in wispy green strokes. His plate was clear, clean even of crumbs, and a braided loaf of bread sat untouched at his elbow with a dish of herbed butter. "Your authorization won't be necessary. The matter is restricted to the vineyards up north."
Zelgius pulled her chair out and she thanked him, gathering her skirt around her knees to sit. "Then why did you bring me along? You're the one who said my presence in the capitol was absolutely necessary - at all times, wasn't it? That if I wanted to traipse off to Serenes--"
"Well if you prefer firmer restrictions on your freedom--" She stretched her leg beneath the table and kicked him. Sephiran winced, muttered stop that, and poured her tea. "You kept mentioning the food. One day it was pomegranate punch, the next it was sweetmeats, and you were positively obsessed with honey cake. I took the hint."
Sanaki took her cup. "Thank you." It was chamomile, with a hint of lavender. He used to give it to her when she was stressed over some matter - usually nightmares, when they lived in Persis. Nightmares and questions - where is my mother? why won't you let me see her? - and summer storms, when the sky would snap with lightning and the air choked her with the scent of burning wood and grass.
There were so many different regions in Persis, so many different climates, that it always seemed to suffer more than the others from disasters. Wildfires ignited by lightning strikes, quakes, floods in the west, frost in the north. She made official visits twice a year to assign imperial aid, but her last personal visit was six summers ago. There was always something to stop her when she wanted to leave the capitol; that war three years ago, or the battle over the Tanas estate. Last year the senate presented a bill to lower buying prices for produce at the beginning of summer, and Sanaki spent the next several weeks assigning committees to analyzing the paperwork, interviews with the provincial farmers in question, and before she knew it the time had come to prepare for the next festival service and prayer to Ashera.
The senate had been quiet of late. She wanted to know what they were planning. Sephiran told her she was paranoid, but she couldn't remember the last time a month passed without some irritating matter coming up during the morning meeting. How was it they had time for a trip to the provinces?
Zelgius left after assuring her the grounds were secure, and Sanaki worked her lower lip between her teeth, staring at the tray at the center of the table. She smelled the buttery scent of her favorite pastries. Sephiran sipped his tea, gaze directed to a sheaf of paper beside his empty plate. A breath of wind ruffled the tablecloth and nudged the first report over the edge. He caught it, looked up, and raised a brow.
"You didn't wait for me, right?" Sanaki lifted the cheesecloth and took a pastry. The top was sticky with honey. "Sigrun said you were up an hour ago."
"I went down with Zelgius to speak with the guard captain about security," he said, putting his cup down. "We weren't here long before you arrived. Don't be concerned."
Of course he did. She counted the bits of crystallized honey on the top of her pastry. He should have done it the night before, but they were all tired. Sigrun had shadows under her eyes; one of them had to be on duty overnight, and Sanaki could imagine her volunteering to take the shift until ten thirty to allow the others time to rest.
The cream filling was light on her tongue when she finally bit into her pastry, just barely sweet, and it melted on her tongue with the thin, flaky layers glazed with honey. Why couldn't they make the dish like this in Sienne? Their creams were always heavy and rich like custard, and too sweet. If she wanted dessert mornings she would order cake. And even cake would be better in Persis - lighter.
Maybe, if they found someone willing to move to the capitol while they were here--
Sephiran would laugh at her if he knew what was going through her mind. It was just food; it wasn't as if Sienne lacked its own culinary delights, and she wasn't nearly as interested in such things as her subordinates. A quiet night without reports or disturbances, or some kind of studying - that was its own delight. There was nothing wrong with putting it all away for a few hours. Would it be so bad to attend an event of some kind that did not involve politics? There was the opera, and the theater, and she received invitations to social events all the time. So attending one or two would be considered a favor - so what? Whose opinion was she deferring to when she turned them all down?
She licked her sticky fingertips when she was done, while Sephiran stacked his papers, tapped them on the table until the edges were even, and stood up. Sanaki wiped her hands and took another pastry. "Will you be working all day?"
"Until early afternoon." He left his work on the edge of the table, the sugar bowl as paperweight, and knelt by her chair. "What troubles you?" Sephiran reached for her hand, stroking the lines of her palm. "You've been snapping at everyone lately, even Sigrun. I've heard unflattering comparisons to your tantrums when you ascended the throne."
She refrained from rolling her eyes. Which one said it - or did it matter? They'd all commented on her stubborn will at one time or another, surely - even Sephiran, though he had the audacity, or perhaps honesty, to tell her what he thought in person.
Sanaki looked at her hands, her sticky fingers, and then at the pastry she slid onto her plate. "Sigrun said she yelled at you for kissing me."
"She was right to do so. I've indulged you too much." She started to tell him he'd been anything but indulgent and he talked over her. "But that isn't what made you so angry. Will you confide in me, or shall I call one of your knights in before I leave?"
She looked down at him, biting her lips, and considered a nonsense answer: I want heels so I don't have to look up at you all the time, something ridiculous that he would have to accept if she insisted. It used to be Sephiran could talk her into bending to what he wanted, or simply demand it, use his authority as her guardian to compel her to do as told. When he spoke in that firm, soft voice, when he looked down at her with that line between his brows as if he wanted to frown, Sanaki felt something clench in her stomach. She remembered times he was so disappointed in her behavior he refused to see her - General Zelgius will see to your comfort tonight he'd said one afternoon, when her control in the throne room snapped and she ordered someone executed. He must have spent the next thirty hours overturning her decree, though she didn't know it then. Other times he'd parted with her early, saying only, Please excuse me, Empress, I must speak with the general.
He always traveled with the general. He always made time for the general. Always, always--
Sanaki pulled her hand free. His brow creased when she nudged his chin up, reaching to button his shirt. If he meant to go out it would have to look neat. "You've been gone most of the year." He blinked at her, eyes widened a little bit, maybe even in surprise. It happened so rarely she didn't remember what the emotion looked like on his face. She smoothed his collar down and pinned the golden buttons. "The senate is quiet, but you've been so busy-- why?"
"They haven't been quiet as they look," Sephiran said under his breath, lowering his head when she smoothed his hair, tucking and pulling the flyaways into place, tightening the ribbon that held it all back. "I haven't-- it isn't anything you did, Sanaki. The timing was bad. I was notified of something odd when I came back, and they're fighting my investigation every step of the way."
But you had time to go to Daein. You had time to go to Persis. She sat back when his hair satisfied her, black and sleek, not a strand out of place. "Are you going to tell me what this mysterious matter is?"
His troubled expression became a frown. Sanaki leaned over the arm of her chair with narrowed eyes, and Sephiran sighed. "Daein," he said, his green eyes shifting aside. "And I don't know what's wrong yet, or I'd have told you already. My agents haven't reported back."
"You should have told me anyway. I need to know--"
"You've been working too hard," Sephiran said sharply, eyes snapping forward again. He grabbed her hands when she tried to turn away, intending to leave her chair for the sunny balcony. "Daein will not be your concern until we have detailed reports on the situation. Matters here--" he squeezed her hands - "are not your responsibility unless I seek a high court judgment. You can't read everything, see everything--"
"They're getting ahead of me!" Sanaki tried to pull her hands free. He held them more tightly. "They're planning something. They've been too permissive. They even signed a movement to fund provincial investigations for slavery. Am I supposed to believe they're sincere?"
"And I heard about your reading material on that matter," Sephiran said. "Provincial court procedure? Estate laws and regional amendments? All well out of your jurisdiction - for a reason."
He let her escape. Sanaki turned back to the table, fingers weaving in her lap. "I was bored."
Sephiran sighed. "Of course."
Her fingers ached. Her eyes felt hot. "Leave it to you - that's what you want me to do, isn't it."
"It's my job to oversee these matters for you, Sanaki."
She lowered her head, watching the flower arrangement flutter, and the yellow roses bob in the breeze. Her arms prickled with the sudden chill, and she twisted her ring around and around, a chain of golden seashells he purchased in Melior. He always told her it would be unwise to leave the capitol long enough to go with him and see the city they called 'the jewel of the north.' She had paintings, and poetic descriptions, even sketches in his own hand. He described every detail so vividly Sanaki could almost see it - almost.
Sephiran promised to take her there someday when the senate was under her control, but when was 'someday?' Would they ever be completely within her control? Was it just something he said to soothe her irritation? She would accept his undivided attention over a trip to Crimea, if she had to choose.
"We're here to rest. Both of us," he said. "As soon as this local matter is taken care of you can have my every waking moment, if that's what you desire."
Sanaki curled her fingers tightly. Could she really? She blinked back the wetness in her eyes. "I won't forget you said that."
"It's no burden to spend time with you, Sanaki. Only a matter of finding an opportunity."
She shook her head, wiped her eyes. "When you say things like that, I almost believe you." Sanaki turned in her chair and smoothed his hair down with both hands, ignoring his protest. He quieted when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. "I know you meant it. You always do."
"And yet you say such cruel things." His lashes swept low, his gaze downcast. "I'll have to prove myself honest."
Sanaki looked down at his dark head, the halo of blue highlights. "Three o'clock," she said, stroking his hair again. She liked how cool it was running through her fingers, how heavy and silky it was when she gathered it in her hands. "If you aren't here to meet me, I'll have Tanith find you and carry you back. Is that clear?"
Sephiran laughed and kissed her hand. "So be it."
.........................................................................
I added a ton of stuff to this right before posting. We'll see how well this holds up. I just want to be done with it. Dwelling on the same fic for a month isn't healthy.
This was supposed to be happier.
Author: Amber Michelle
Pairing: Lehran/Sanaki
Fandom: Fire Emblem 9-10
Theme: 20 - the road home
Words: 3182
Rating: K
Disclaimer: Fire Emblem is copyrighted by Intelligent Systems and Nintendo. I'm not getting any money out of this, just satisfaction~
Notes: absolutely, positively innocent. I had a lot of trouble with this one, and I'm not sure why. My brain just would not spit out a title.
......................................................
It took most of a night to fly from Sienne to their manor in the provinces, and Sanaki fell asleep some time during the way to the sound of wing beats and air blowing past her ears, jingling the harnesses. She didn't yet have the stamina to ride all the way on her own, so it was the rhythm of a wyvern she learned that trip, leaning against Sephiran beneath the heavy, quilted folds of a gray cloak. She wanted a pegasus; her grandmother rode one, and her mother, and her mother before that - there were Apostles who rode into battle with their knights, every bit as skilled in riding and melee as they.
When you're older, he said when she demanded a mount of her own. Always 'when you're older.' She knew how to ride now.
The wyvern was warmer than a pegasus; the ride was smoother, the saddle more stable. She closed her eyes while they coasted above the clouds, the land covered in fog and moonlight, and awoke in her bed in Persis beneath two layers of blankets, dressed down to her shift. A fire was laid but unlit, and a dress hung on the changing screen beside her other affects. Sun shined through the lace curtains, and the clock read ten past eight.
She sat up quickly, her heart leaping, pounding, and she pressed her hands to her chest, took a deep breath. The second-hand ticked, barely audible. Someone called outside, a more distant voice answered, both muffled by the glass window. At Sienne she would be downstairs in a meeting already. Sanaki saw dawn break more often than not, the hands of her clock rarely past five thirty when she left her rooms.
She called for Sigrun. The minute hand ticked over one. Her legs were sore from being slung over a saddle, her back was stiff from sleeping while sitting up, and she winced when she pushed up to lean against the headboard. When the door opened and her knight looked in, she asked, "Why didn't someone wake me up? Am I late for anything?"
Sigrun stepped inside and closed the door. "Breakfast, maybe. I believe Lord Sephiran woke an hour ago."
Sanaki turned the duvet cover back to look at the reverse design. "Is there any business to be taken care of?"
"Ah." Sigrun bowed her head. "Not for you. He said you wanted to come along."
Sanaki kicked the covers open and slid out of bed. A thick red rug cushioned her feet, but she felt the cold tiles beneath the weave. "Is he waiting for me?" He should have sent someone. He should have told her more than 'there are matters I must attend to' when he offered to bring her over. "Help me dress. I shouldn't keep him."
The dress was light as a feather, the skirt layers of pale silk that floated and swirled around her ankles as she walked. It must have been new, because the wardrobe she'd maintained at the manor was at least two years old, and Sephiran told her she'd changed quite a bit since then. She was taller, he said, she'd even grown in the space of his last trip out of Begnion, and Sigrun told her she had begun to develop curves. They didn't show in her normal attire, but the dress was fitted to every one of them, and Sanaki stood in front of the mirror for a moment while her knight went to the dressing table for a brush and a ribbon, trying to decide if she wanted to change or search for a shawl. It was too warm. The manor was in the most hospitable part of the province, and it was always warm, even when it shouldn't be - autumn, winter.
The knight pulled Sanaki's hair back, and then she hurried out the door, down the hall to the duke's quarters. She could have walked it in her sleep. Sigrun was the only knight to accompany her, and when she entered his rooms, the door between the sitting area and the bedchamber was held open by a heavy leather chair she abhorred, and daylight bounced from the white walls into the dark entrance. Sanaki left Sigrun at the door and padded across the tiles, following the sound of Sephiran's voice and the scrape of metal armor.
"--sentence should be a simple matter. Have the magistrate watched, see if we can have him taken care of first."
She waited in the doorway, clasping her hands at her back. The general's upright posture was unmistakable, even in half armor, without a sword. He stood at rest, and Sephiran sat at a small, round table near the doors to the balcony, hair tied back, coat thrown over the back of his chair. Her fingers twitched to button the white collar of his shirt and crease it properly over his chest. It was a provincial matter he'd made the trip for; she listened to them discuss a legal case and examined the room, but everything appeared to be in place as he liked it. The bed was made, the books stacked neatly on his table, the oil in his lamp half-burned. His belongings were the only ones evident.
Sephiran's eyes slanted in her direction mid-sentence and he stopped, a teacup halfway to his mouth. "Your majesty." The cup clinked onto its saucer; Zelgius spun on his heel and somehow managed to turn the motion into a graceful bow. He was a shadow against the sunny backdrop of the cypress trees beyond the balcony.
"You should have sent someone for me." Sanaki inclined her head to Zelgius, motioned for him to straighten. "If I've delayed your business--"
"No." Sephiran beckoned her forward, reaching over a tray for the teacup turned down on its saucer at her place, his cuff links catching on the cloth covering. The cups were decorated with curling ferns painted in wispy green strokes. His plate was clear, clean even of crumbs, and a braided loaf of bread sat untouched at his elbow with a dish of herbed butter. "Your authorization won't be necessary. The matter is restricted to the vineyards up north."
Zelgius pulled her chair out and she thanked him, gathering her skirt around her knees to sit. "Then why did you bring me along? You're the one who said my presence in the capitol was absolutely necessary - at all times, wasn't it? That if I wanted to traipse off to Serenes--"
"Well if you prefer firmer restrictions on your freedom--" She stretched her leg beneath the table and kicked him. Sephiran winced, muttered stop that, and poured her tea. "You kept mentioning the food. One day it was pomegranate punch, the next it was sweetmeats, and you were positively obsessed with honey cake. I took the hint."
Sanaki took her cup. "Thank you." It was chamomile, with a hint of lavender. He used to give it to her when she was stressed over some matter - usually nightmares, when they lived in Persis. Nightmares and questions - where is my mother? why won't you let me see her? - and summer storms, when the sky would snap with lightning and the air choked her with the scent of burning wood and grass.
There were so many different regions in Persis, so many different climates, that it always seemed to suffer more than the others from disasters. Wildfires ignited by lightning strikes, quakes, floods in the west, frost in the north. She made official visits twice a year to assign imperial aid, but her last personal visit was six summers ago. There was always something to stop her when she wanted to leave the capitol; that war three years ago, or the battle over the Tanas estate. Last year the senate presented a bill to lower buying prices for produce at the beginning of summer, and Sanaki spent the next several weeks assigning committees to analyzing the paperwork, interviews with the provincial farmers in question, and before she knew it the time had come to prepare for the next festival service and prayer to Ashera.
The senate had been quiet of late. She wanted to know what they were planning. Sephiran told her she was paranoid, but she couldn't remember the last time a month passed without some irritating matter coming up during the morning meeting. How was it they had time for a trip to the provinces?
Zelgius left after assuring her the grounds were secure, and Sanaki worked her lower lip between her teeth, staring at the tray at the center of the table. She smelled the buttery scent of her favorite pastries. Sephiran sipped his tea, gaze directed to a sheaf of paper beside his empty plate. A breath of wind ruffled the tablecloth and nudged the first report over the edge. He caught it, looked up, and raised a brow.
"You didn't wait for me, right?" Sanaki lifted the cheesecloth and took a pastry. The top was sticky with honey. "Sigrun said you were up an hour ago."
"I went down with Zelgius to speak with the guard captain about security," he said, putting his cup down. "We weren't here long before you arrived. Don't be concerned."
Of course he did. She counted the bits of crystallized honey on the top of her pastry. He should have done it the night before, but they were all tired. Sigrun had shadows under her eyes; one of them had to be on duty overnight, and Sanaki could imagine her volunteering to take the shift until ten thirty to allow the others time to rest.
The cream filling was light on her tongue when she finally bit into her pastry, just barely sweet, and it melted on her tongue with the thin, flaky layers glazed with honey. Why couldn't they make the dish like this in Sienne? Their creams were always heavy and rich like custard, and too sweet. If she wanted dessert mornings she would order cake. And even cake would be better in Persis - lighter.
Maybe, if they found someone willing to move to the capitol while they were here--
Sephiran would laugh at her if he knew what was going through her mind. It was just food; it wasn't as if Sienne lacked its own culinary delights, and she wasn't nearly as interested in such things as her subordinates. A quiet night without reports or disturbances, or some kind of studying - that was its own delight. There was nothing wrong with putting it all away for a few hours. Would it be so bad to attend an event of some kind that did not involve politics? There was the opera, and the theater, and she received invitations to social events all the time. So attending one or two would be considered a favor - so what? Whose opinion was she deferring to when she turned them all down?
She licked her sticky fingertips when she was done, while Sephiran stacked his papers, tapped them on the table until the edges were even, and stood up. Sanaki wiped her hands and took another pastry. "Will you be working all day?"
"Until early afternoon." He left his work on the edge of the table, the sugar bowl as paperweight, and knelt by her chair. "What troubles you?" Sephiran reached for her hand, stroking the lines of her palm. "You've been snapping at everyone lately, even Sigrun. I've heard unflattering comparisons to your tantrums when you ascended the throne."
She refrained from rolling her eyes. Which one said it - or did it matter? They'd all commented on her stubborn will at one time or another, surely - even Sephiran, though he had the audacity, or perhaps honesty, to tell her what he thought in person.
Sanaki looked at her hands, her sticky fingers, and then at the pastry she slid onto her plate. "Sigrun said she yelled at you for kissing me."
"She was right to do so. I've indulged you too much." She started to tell him he'd been anything but indulgent and he talked over her. "But that isn't what made you so angry. Will you confide in me, or shall I call one of your knights in before I leave?"
She looked down at him, biting her lips, and considered a nonsense answer: I want heels so I don't have to look up at you all the time, something ridiculous that he would have to accept if she insisted. It used to be Sephiran could talk her into bending to what he wanted, or simply demand it, use his authority as her guardian to compel her to do as told. When he spoke in that firm, soft voice, when he looked down at her with that line between his brows as if he wanted to frown, Sanaki felt something clench in her stomach. She remembered times he was so disappointed in her behavior he refused to see her - General Zelgius will see to your comfort tonight he'd said one afternoon, when her control in the throne room snapped and she ordered someone executed. He must have spent the next thirty hours overturning her decree, though she didn't know it then. Other times he'd parted with her early, saying only, Please excuse me, Empress, I must speak with the general.
He always traveled with the general. He always made time for the general. Always, always--
Sanaki pulled her hand free. His brow creased when she nudged his chin up, reaching to button his shirt. If he meant to go out it would have to look neat. "You've been gone most of the year." He blinked at her, eyes widened a little bit, maybe even in surprise. It happened so rarely she didn't remember what the emotion looked like on his face. She smoothed his collar down and pinned the golden buttons. "The senate is quiet, but you've been so busy-- why?"
"They haven't been quiet as they look," Sephiran said under his breath, lowering his head when she smoothed his hair, tucking and pulling the flyaways into place, tightening the ribbon that held it all back. "I haven't-- it isn't anything you did, Sanaki. The timing was bad. I was notified of something odd when I came back, and they're fighting my investigation every step of the way."
But you had time to go to Daein. You had time to go to Persis. She sat back when his hair satisfied her, black and sleek, not a strand out of place. "Are you going to tell me what this mysterious matter is?"
His troubled expression became a frown. Sanaki leaned over the arm of her chair with narrowed eyes, and Sephiran sighed. "Daein," he said, his green eyes shifting aside. "And I don't know what's wrong yet, or I'd have told you already. My agents haven't reported back."
"You should have told me anyway. I need to know--"
"You've been working too hard," Sephiran said sharply, eyes snapping forward again. He grabbed her hands when she tried to turn away, intending to leave her chair for the sunny balcony. "Daein will not be your concern until we have detailed reports on the situation. Matters here--" he squeezed her hands - "are not your responsibility unless I seek a high court judgment. You can't read everything, see everything--"
"They're getting ahead of me!" Sanaki tried to pull her hands free. He held them more tightly. "They're planning something. They've been too permissive. They even signed a movement to fund provincial investigations for slavery. Am I supposed to believe they're sincere?"
"And I heard about your reading material on that matter," Sephiran said. "Provincial court procedure? Estate laws and regional amendments? All well out of your jurisdiction - for a reason."
He let her escape. Sanaki turned back to the table, fingers weaving in her lap. "I was bored."
Sephiran sighed. "Of course."
Her fingers ached. Her eyes felt hot. "Leave it to you - that's what you want me to do, isn't it."
"It's my job to oversee these matters for you, Sanaki."
She lowered her head, watching the flower arrangement flutter, and the yellow roses bob in the breeze. Her arms prickled with the sudden chill, and she twisted her ring around and around, a chain of golden seashells he purchased in Melior. He always told her it would be unwise to leave the capitol long enough to go with him and see the city they called 'the jewel of the north.' She had paintings, and poetic descriptions, even sketches in his own hand. He described every detail so vividly Sanaki could almost see it - almost.
Sephiran promised to take her there someday when the senate was under her control, but when was 'someday?' Would they ever be completely within her control? Was it just something he said to soothe her irritation? She would accept his undivided attention over a trip to Crimea, if she had to choose.
"We're here to rest. Both of us," he said. "As soon as this local matter is taken care of you can have my every waking moment, if that's what you desire."
Sanaki curled her fingers tightly. Could she really? She blinked back the wetness in her eyes. "I won't forget you said that."
"It's no burden to spend time with you, Sanaki. Only a matter of finding an opportunity."
She shook her head, wiped her eyes. "When you say things like that, I almost believe you." Sanaki turned in her chair and smoothed his hair down with both hands, ignoring his protest. He quieted when she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his forehead. "I know you meant it. You always do."
"And yet you say such cruel things." His lashes swept low, his gaze downcast. "I'll have to prove myself honest."
Sanaki looked down at his dark head, the halo of blue highlights. "Three o'clock," she said, stroking his hair again. She liked how cool it was running through her fingers, how heavy and silky it was when she gathered it in her hands. "If you aren't here to meet me, I'll have Tanith find you and carry you back. Is that clear?"
Sephiran laughed and kissed her hand. "So be it."
.........................................................................
I added a ton of stuff to this right before posting. We'll see how well this holds up. I just want to be done with it. Dwelling on the same fic for a month isn't healthy.
This was supposed to be happier.
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Date: 2008-12-27 01:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-27 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-12-28 02:33 am (UTC)