[July 31] [Fire Emblem] Wrought With Human Hands (S.Chronicle 4/?)

[runiclore]

Wrought With Human Hands
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: July 31 - Against all reason
Series: Fire Emblem 10
Character/Pairing: Sephiran, Sanaki, Oliver
Rating: K
Words: 3094

Notes: AU, part four of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.




.............................................


The morning meal had come and gone when Sephiran was admitted to Sanaki's parlor. Her curtains were pulled open and the windows cracked to admit the early spring breeze and the scent of wet stone and early blossoms. She was occupied at the table, still in her dressing gown.

"--given the nature of the meeting," the Minister of Ceremonies was saying when Sephiran was within earshot, his hand resting on a swatch of blue and white brocade, "it might be best if you dress exclusively in Begnion colors. Blue would give the wrong impression."

His Empress sighed. "The cream brocade should be fine."

Sephiran watched Sanaki's face as she spoke with the Minister of Ceremonies. Her eyes strayed to the window while the man talked about gold thread and what an absolute shame it would be to turn her nose up at such a fine bolt of vermilion velvet. He was thin, bent at the shoulders in a way that made him appear to be leaning into one's personal space, and a finger's-breadth shorter than the empress. She wouldn't look at him directly, but held herself back and edged away a step when he crowded closer to spread new swatches of fabric over the back of a chair.

There were faint smudges shadowing her eyes. She'd tried to hide them with makeup, but she wore it so seldom she hadn't the skill to cover the evidence flawlessly. Although they were as likely to disagree as not in recent days, when she turned her eyes to him and a line marred the smooth skin between her brows he left his coat folded on the divan and said, "That's enough, Kobel. The cream and blue should be pleasant enough to begin a state visit."

"My lord." Kobel bowed his head to the empress and turned. "With all due respect, an occasion such as this requires careful planning that is beyond the ken of senators. If my Lady is not properly dressed--"

"Later," Sephiran said with a glance in her direction. "I have business to discuss with the empress. Let her think on her choices and come back tomorrow."

The older man's frown deepened his wrinkles. "But we have so little time--"

"Enough." Her voice was clipped and Kobel flinched. "Dismissed." Sanaki turned her back on both of them and retreated to her bedroom. She left the door open a crack, and Sephiran saw her move right toward the window before her figure disappeared.

Sephiran looked down at the old minister's thinning hair. He should be used to such cold dismissals; the previous empress had often dispensed with him the same way. "Her measurements have not changed. Make the dress and discuss the rest later. Put the velvet on my account if you must."

Kobel met his gaze and said, "From her clothes to her marriage. Your reputation precedes you."

"So I'm told," Sephiran said, and brushed past him. "Get out."

Kobel's eyes narrowed, but he gathered his swatches without further protest and took his leave. Sephiran lingered at her door until he heard the other man leave, and then knocked twice. Enter came with a sigh, and he slipped inside and pressed the door closed gently. Her back was to him, her figure a shadow against the sun-bright gauze of her curtains except for a pale halo of lavender about her head. Kobel had arrived early enough to interrupt her breakfast by the look of the table by the window; a bowl of hardening porridge was abandoned on its tray, a slice of bread slathered with blueberry preserve half-eaten beside it. Her bed wasn't made.

"What is this business we have to discuss?" Sanaki asked. "Or can it wait?"

"No business." Sephiran wrapped an arm around the bedpost. "You look exhausted."

Her laugh held no cheer. "On a holiday, too. But I have the rest of the morning to contemplate his cryptic parting remark."

"It won't require much wit if you've seen Kilvas as often as I hear." She glanced over her shoulder and he lifted a brow. "If we're to discuss what looks bad--"

"Oh hush." Sanaki left the window and curled her fingers around the bedpost just below his hand. "If I ask you instead, will you tell me the truth?" She picked lint from his shirt and looked up at him through her lashes.

"One does not keep secrets by talking about them." Her hand rested on his waist, warm. Sephiran took hold of her wrist, but couldn't bring himself to remove it. "He has filled your head with rumors, hasn't he."

Her lips pursed. "Did you have an affair with my grandmother?"

"No."

"I thought you weren't going to answer me."

"That isn't a secret I want to keep." Sephiran let his grip on the bedpost slacken. "I didn't carry on with her daughter--" he brushed the shadow under her eye with his thumb, blending the powder with her skin, "--and you are not my daughter, or my niece, or a street urchin trained to play empress. You are Sanaki, last scion of House Kirsch. Your mother named you, not I."

"Really." Sanaki rested her head on his chest. "Did she really?"

"Didn't I tell you?" She shook her head, and Sephiran rested his cheek on the crown of her head. There was no point in concealing information about her family, aside from his own involvement in the timeline. He hadn't meant to clam up and tell her nothing - it was so difficult, sometimes, to remember what she deserved to know.

He'd considered telling her everything once; only for a few moments, but now the idea coiled in his subconscious and refused to leave him alone. Her grandmother knew his true identity the moment they met. The generations separating them didn't obscure the truth - his blood ran true enough in the firstborn of Altina's line, and he didn't understand why the same wasn't true of the other children. They lived long lives for beorc, they were wells of magic potential one and all; why could they not sing?

There were times he envied Sanaki. She didn't know what it was to hear the goddess or sing a tree back to life. Magic was a poor substitute, but it was the sum of her experience.

"We are distant relatives," he said, smoothing her hair. "I gave your mother shelter when Misaha was assassinated."

Sanaki pressed her face into his collar. "How close?"

Sephiran sighed. "That argument won't help you."

"That's what I thought." She poked his ribs. "No good reason - you're just incredibly rude, and lack the decency to accept an advantageous proposal when it's handed to you on a silver platter."

He grabbed her hand. "I raised you. It's beyond inappropriate."

She made a noncommittal sound and let her hand drop to her side. "You trained me. There is a difference."

"Sanaki--"

"I promised to give the prince a chance," she said, pulling out of his embrace. "That doesn't mean I won't have my own preferences in the matter. I won't dance at the senate's whim."

If you want to put a shiv in the senate Kilvas said to him the other day, just say yes. It doesn't matter if you go through with it. Avoid Ashnard's trap, whatever it was, rile the senate and undermine their support while they were busy trying to throw the book of law at him, protect what was his.

Sephiran had not called anybody his own for a long time - so long he didn't remember what it felt like to utter the word love or take someone in his arms with any sort of amorous intent. You're mine, he told Altina once, and yet it was not true. Perhaps it was his own fault for not defending his claim as he should have. She wouldn't have put up with it in any case; she was a strong woman, in body and mind, and like Ashera she never regretted her decisions no matter how tragic. She never looked back.

Sanaki was so unlike Altina, slender and light, her shape subtle and the swell of her hips unsuited for the role life was demanding of her. But her will was strong, and her desire for justice was sincere. She would do what was required of her no matter how unhappy the decision.

"I'm not a child anymore."

He lifted his gaze. "I know."


*


Sephiran was not one to scorn an ally in the senate, as such were hard-won and even harder to keep when topics such as the Apostle's authenticity or bills to improve beorc-laguz relations were presented. Circumstances were conspiring, however, to test his pragmatism. Oliver was the first card laid upon the table, and Sephiran couldn't deny he made an excellent case against tolerance.

"I'm sorry, Duke, but your reasoning for suggesting I do this escapes me." He motioned for Oliver's servant to open the windows to the balcony, and decided he was glad there was a wide, heavy pine desk between them. It wasn't that he mistrusted the other's intentions regarding his safety, so much as the meaning behind his intent stares and the way the other senator was wont to reach for his hand on odd occasions. He couldn't fathom what Tanas saw in him to prompt such behavior.

Beautiful, Oliver had said when they first met, taking his hand in formal greeting and then pressing it between his fingers, as if to feel the fragile bones. Such delicacy-- exquisite. We could not be more blessed if the White Prince himself were to sit on the senate.

He should have known that for a bad sign. Tanas had only grown worse with age.

"Clearly one of us would suit her better than a Daien prince," Oliver said, waving his hand as if batting away a fly. "I admit he might bring with him some benefit, but to let Ashnard get a hold in Begnion-- and Lekain is too keen on the idea to be trusted. Where do you think that money is disappearing to?"

"That--" Sephiran sighed, indicated the servant. The duke sent him out of the office, and he waited until the door was fully closed before continuing. "We have no proof. It could be anybody on the council, including yourself. What put this idea into your head?"

The chair creaked under Oliver's weight when he shifted. "Not the money, if that's what you're implying."

"All right." He would have to invest in a larger chair for his office. Tanas looked uncomfortable squeezed between the two oak arms and the stiff, high back. Granted it was meant to be unpleasant to sit in, but not to make him feel guilty for inflicting it on his guests. "Then what - bloodline? Precedent?"

Oliver frowned, smoothed one side of his mustache, and looked him up and down. "Aren't you worried about the poor girl's happiness? I prefer more buxom girls, but you could find it in your heart to-- well..." He spread his hands.

Sephiran gripped the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles cracked. "No."

Oliver stared at him. "Surely you're not in his camp--"

"No." Sephiran made his fingers relax and closed his eyes. He knew his expression must give him away, but of all the insulting propositions-- and he didn't care to hear about Oliver's preferences, nor could he swallow such a criticism of their empress. She had her flaws, and her figure was not one of them. "We agreed not to submit our own petitions, as you may recall. None of us are of suitable age to ask for her hand."

Tanas broke eye contact, glancing first at the window, then at the staff of office leaning against the desk. "Age hardly touches you, Duke Persis. I believe our fair empress has finally noticed."

Sephiran swallowed another sigh. She could have been more discreet about that visit to the archives. "She has started to notice a great many things. I hope whatever you're planning with Hetzel is honest, or my age will be the least of your concerns."

"He isn't the dishonest sort, Minister." Oliver levered himself out of the chair and straightened his coat with short jerks. "His fortune would be in better condition if he were more flexible. As for the empress--"

"No."

"Consider the benefits to your own position before you answer with such finality," Tanas said. His rings glinted in the afternoon light, gold and emerald and diamond. His bald spot shined as if polished. "Your fondness for laguz-related causes, for instance, might bear fruit if the public were behind you."

Sephiran tried not to frown. With Oliver it was always like that - sighs, frowns, and in a moment he would add a pointed good-bye to that list. "Must I repeat myself? To break my own injunction, for my own benefit--"

"It would make you a more attractive ally, Minister. You cannot argue with that."

Couldn't he? The people were already behind Sanaki, and himself by extension. It was the senate he needed to win over, and neither Tanas nor Hetzel were a very good start. "If you insist," Sephiran said, rising to bid him good-bye, "I will consider it. Nothing more. Good day, Duke Tanas."


*


He returned to Sanaki's chambers for the evening meal at her invitation, and found another stack of leather folders waiting on the table beside his place setting. His empress was already seated and looking out the window with her chin propped on her hand, her hair still pinned in place as he'd left it that morning. The wall lamps were lit but the curtains hadn't been drawn, and the city beyond the balcony rail lit up the sky.

"Can we just burn them?" she asked when he sat down. "I looked at the names."

Sephiran smiled, slight, but she was still gazing out the window. "By all means. It's your choice."

She rolled her eyes. Yes of course it is. Mine and the senate's-- He could see she was about to say it, but then she looked at him and simply sighed, reaching over to uncover the ceramic tureen. Pumpkin and apple risotto released steam laden with cinnamon and the sweet tang of fruit. "Even if the prince were not about to visit, I wouldn't consider them. It's no loss."

He served her first, and then himself, and wondered if Oliver or anybody else had approached her about him. "Who would you consider?" She looked at him, lifting both eyebrows, and he said, "Besides the obvious. If pressed, who would you choose?"

"You think it might come to that." She dipped a spoon into her risotto and waited for it to cool, watching steam rise from the rice. "I don't know. I really don't. There are a few who have not asked, but I..."

"If it does come to that--" Sephiran started to tell her I'll do something and bit it back. Of course he would try; that went without saying, and to give it voice might be cruel if she chose to read between the lines. "We will have a plan of action ready long before that becomes a problem."

Three weeks remained before their guest would arrive. The nights were already warming in Sienne, and the snows were melting farther north, though Daien would be locked in ice for another month, perhaps more. They would probably use magic or flyers to reach the border, and then continue into Begnion on foot. The journey might have begun already. There was no word on who would join the escort. Nobles? One of the Four Riders? Sending anybody of lesser rank would be an insult.

The latter possibility dulled his appetite, made his stomach churn. If it was Gawain, there might be a problem. If Sanaki followed his advice and the senate's and chose the prince, there would be Ashnard himself to face during the wedding celebration, and that was a meeting Sephiran would prefer to avoid.

"You're considering contingency plans, I hope?" Sanaki said when the silence stretched, her bowl half-finished.

"If you must know," Sephiran said, resting his spoon on the side of his bowl, "Oliver offered his glorious person to you just a few hours ago-- should negotiations fall through, of course."

Sanaki let her spoon fall back into her stew. "How could you tell me that while we're eating?"

He laughed, and she covered her face with both hands. "Is that a 'no?'"

She groaned and kicked him under the table. "I'm not speaking to you until after dinner."

Sephiran inclined his head. "Yes, my Empress."

Sanaki's eyes narrowed and her lips very nearly formed a pout. "You-- you are so mean."

"I thought you weren't speaking to me?"

"Silence! If you say one more word," she said, pointing at him, trying to flick him across the nose, "I'll make you marry Duke Tanas."

He took her hand and uncurled her fingers. That would indeed be a terrible fate for either of them, and he would marry her himself before letting such a thing happen - perhaps. Sephiran smoothed her skin between his hands and remembered when she was smaller, and her hand from base to fingertip would barely span his palm. He knew she was no longer a child - it was hard not to notice in spite of himself - but he wished she could have remained ten, or twelve, too young to be the senate's bargaining chip and yet old enough to understand what her position demanded.

Sanaki made a fine queen. She had a strong voice, figuratively, literally - in that alone, she reminded him of her foremother. Altina hadn't the ability to hear Ashera either, but look at the country she wrought with her normal, human hands-- and the dynasty that yet lived, eight hundred years after her death. All without him.

Sephiran kissed Sanaki's hand, and let it go.



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This was not in the plan. Any of it.

Herons totally eat meat in nature, but I went vegan for Sephiran's sake. Reyson's problem had to be the tragic decision to eat his meat raw. (But if they can't eat meat, I wonder - does that extend to all animal products, like milk and cheese? I'd exclude eggs, if only because that would feel terribly wrong, for a bird. Nealuchi made it clear Naesala hatched from an egg, and even if that makes no sense at all... mercy. Yes.)

Bless the internet for its plethora of international vegan recipes.

Comments

[oniric-angel.livejournal.com]

xD I totally agree about everything said here.
Everywhere here. lol I can't help smiling maniacally and, for a change, it's all you fault, myaru...
What with such a cliffhanger ?!? XD

[runiclore.livejournal.com]

If you think this is a cliffhanger, you're going to cry at the way I end some of the later chapters. XD Well, maybe. One can never say exactly how they'll turn out.

Thank you!