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runicloreForce and Prudence
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: October 8 - power play
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Soren, Sephiran, Naesala
Rating: T
Words: 4482
Notes: ... the truth comes out.
AU, part nine of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
.............................................
Sanaki spent the rest of her day looking over her shoulder; for Sephiran with a folder of notes under one arm, come to notify her of the proceedings, and for the shadow of the raven king's wings - in animal or human form, it wouldn't have mattered. He never finished his report, and in the time that stretched between her minister's departure and the moment her clock struck ten-thirty and required her to leave the quiet of her rooms to meet her guest once again, he could have given the rest of his report a thousand times over.
She had Tanith braid her hair, and descended to the designated meeting place at the center of the palace garden with a spellbook under one arm and Zelgius at her side instead of his master. They'd discussed this, of course; she knew before Soren arrived the Senior Council would be required to shoulder the burden of her normal duties so she could be here flirting with Daein. Sanaki would have welcomed a finance report just then, or a list of territories that had not yet paid their yearly tribute. The number of ships struck by Kilvas pirates at the strait had gone down drastically, and while that was not necessarily more interesting than the prince she watched bow to her in his pale winter coat, she thought it would not leave as bitter a taste in her mouth as he did.
"Your tome," she said when he straightened, holding the book out. "I admit, it is not to my taste. Even if one minimized the personal risk involved, these spells would be ineffective anywhere but a battlefield."
Soren lifted it from her hands and folded his arm around the book, holding it against his hip. "You don't lead campaigns personally, Empress?"
Sanaki buttoned her collar closed against the chill and wished she'd worn a cloak. The prince's shadow had shed his heavy winter gear so the plates of armor he wore glinted in the gray light. Daein was still covered in snow, she thought, but it was hard to imagine Sienne locked in ice this far into the year. Was this comfortable weather for them? Was it like the height of a Daein spring, or the heat of summer? The prince did not appear to be uncomfortable in his heavy clothing. "To date we've only suffered small regional uprisings. My presence would accomplish nothing."
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I was told the higher servants of Ashera are required to abstain from war. In Daein our clergy is forbidden from bearing weapons - even magic."
Sanaki frowned. "But wasn't that your father's--" The prince nodded, and she watched the end of his braid flit on the breeze. "The scripture doesn't forbid anybody from participating." She tilted her head to the marble bench. Soren followed her, and she sat down. "Ashera hates war - any kind of war. One of our early rulers determined it would be best for her priesthood to stay on the sidelines and follow Lehran's example."
"So you won't be construed as supporting the chaos?" Soren took his place beside her, fingering the gilded edge of his book. "Does it work?"
She looked at him, lifting a brow before she could stop herself. "I don't follow."
"Does your tradition boast of any success in promoting order on the continent?" he asked.
"How does one make such a judgement?" Sanaki let her expression melt away and kept the muscles of her face stiff, still. The breeze chilled her fingers. The prince could have watched her less intently. He must know how unnerving his eyes were - just vivid enough not to be mistaken for brown, but deep as velvet folds and thoroughly inhuman. They reminded her, for a moment, of Rafiel. Of Sephiran. "Begnion promotes order no differently than other countries."
Soren tugged on the fingers of his gloves, pulling them off and tucking them in a deep pocket. "When was this decision made - at the founding of the empire? Near that time?" She nodded, and he wove his fingers together over his knee. "Yet it took no more than a few hundred years for the northern territories to fragment and break away, and the sub-humans started another war with their migration, which it seems your Apostle did not detect, or it surely would have been avoided in Ashera's name..."
"The Apostle is not infallible." Sanaki curled her fingers in, pressing them into her lap. The wool of her riding dress was woven smooth, the surface cool. "Ashera dreams of many things. She has warned us before of famine and disaster--"
"And when she doesn't warn you?" He relented and turned his face away. "There are times when she has remained silent, aren't there - your court labors through one now. And without the voice of the goddess, what do you turn to for relief? Perhaps to her artifacts."
Though he said it without inflection, Sanaki felt her teeth clench. She relaxed her jaw with difficulty. "You refer to the stolen medallion. Will its return be part of the nuptial agreement?"
Soren snorted softly - it might have been a laugh. "Must we return to that old accusation?"
"That was your intent, was it not?"
"My intent," he said, "is to present a side of the story you likely haven't heard, not to argue the veracity of either claim. The theft happened before we were born. The case went nowhere, but I assure you it will be part of these negotiations. We should be prepared when they try to bargain us away to cover their own mistakes."
Her mouth twisted. "You're too kind."
He cast her a sideways glance. "It's the truth."
They remained in the garden for several hours, taking a midday meal under a dome of climbing rose and sweetpea vines, discussing the accusations made between their countries when the artifact was stolen. The servants were clearing the table and replacing the platter of roasted vegetables with tea service when one of her aides delivered a letter. The Athenon family would be hosting their annual spring gala in a week's time, and would she be pleased to attend with her guest and bless their celebration? We may as well agree, Sanaki told him, and you can let me know afterward if their wit is sharp enough for your taste.
As if she had time to waste on parties. The charges against Hetzel should be drafted and waiting on the table for her signature and seal. There wasn't much for Sanaki to oversee when he'd pled guilty; Sephiran would take care of his sentence, but the aftermath, the accusations and proofs Hetzel would present to implicate his colleagues-- that would be a mess.
Perhaps she should have been ashamed for how she looked forward to that. "It's Serenes business," Sanaki said when the servant was sent away with her reply. "The council has yet to show any interest in that, and I doubt that will change."
"Your minister has always shown a great deal too much."
Sanaki traced the lip of her teacup with her finger. "It's only natural."
"Because of his origin?" The prince picked up his tea, pausing to breathe the steam before he took a short sip. "I've heard about that. Finding records has proven difficult."
She watched him drink, fingers still on the saucer, and thought maybe she would prefer he try to dazzle her with a pretty lie or two instead. Why not? The truth, as he termed it, could at least be couched in more attractive terms. "Is that what your assistant has been doing since your arrival? Stirring up trouble for my minister?"
"Not at all. He knows the minister's past well enough, though if he stumbles across any relevant documents--" Soren glanced up, lifting his eyebrows. "Evidence - that's always the problem when it comes to men like Duke Persis. I know you've had similar problems with other members of the senior council."
Sanaki leaned back and let her hands slide into her lap. "Tradition," she said, shifting in her seat. "It would not be Begnion without the underhanded dealings of senators. There'd be nothing to do."
Of course, he said, but his smile was false, and Sanaki didn't bother to return it. She knew the medallion's history, knew the physical danger it presented, and if the thief, whoever he might be, wished to risk his own destruction by possessing the thing, that was his concern. One slip, and they would know where to look. Who in their right mind would desire the dark god's release, in any case? And how likely was a continental war? She would never involve her people in the squabbles of younger countries. Begnion belonged to Ashera, and Sanaki would abide by her wish and remain neutral.
Yet-- there was Crimea. Crimea, who sent tribute and had a claim on her protection. Crimea, faced with a Daein military presence they might not know about just yet. Was it her concern?
She returned to her rooms soon after; the clock read half-past three, and she sent Zelgius away with a message requesting Sephiran's presence along with the minutes taken of the trial proceedings. Let Sephiran in immediately, she told Tanith at the door, but be sure to detain Kilvas when he arrives. And he had better come back, she muttered, if only to answer for his breach of conduct.
They sent for tea, and Sanaki went to her bedroom to change. There were so many new additions to the wardrobe and her chests she didn't know where to start. She thought of the indigo gown because it had annoyed Sephiran when she tried it on, but meeting him in such finery would be ridiculous. There was no satisfaction in a conversation he spent averting his eyes - or worse, staring intently at her face to the exclusion of all else.
She remembered being told a long time ago, perhaps by Kilvas, the difference in custom between beorc and laguz when it came to attraction. She was thirteen or fourteen, he was teasing her for being obvious in her attention to Sephiran. But Sephiran was beautiful - of course she noticed, she always had, and when she looked at him that year he was more than just pretty - more than an image. She wanted to feel the slide of his hair between her fingers, or perhaps to touch his lips and see if they were soft.
Then Sanaki made the fatal mistake of asking Kilvas, am I attractive? because Sigrun would tell her that yes, of course she was attractive, and Tanith would probably say the same. They were obligated to say so. And he laughed and laughed--
Just thinking about it made her face heat. She pulled a violet dress from the wardrobe and shed her riding habit, kicking it into the corner behind the screen.
It isn't looks, Empress. Not that it hurts to have good plumage. He'd grinned at her glare, and she remembered he wouldn't let her touch his wings. The qualities laguz look for are more practical. Think of it in political terms - if you were to marry, would you choose your husband from a nobody family?
Of course not. She was an empress. If she married-- Strength? Charisma? But no, it was much simpler than that. You're too young, he said, eyes lingering on her chest, her waist, I can't really say, and she'd fought the impulse to pull her mantle closed, not understanding what he was looking for and yet thinking his point obvious.
It was time to dig to the bottom of Sephiran's reasons, whatever they were. He claimed impropriety, and yet Kilvas had a point, no matter how graceless his explanation had been - that was a lie. This was all tangled up with the raven king's other accusations, with the prince's claim, and with that uncanny way Rafiel smiled and made her think she was looking at someone else. Why couldn't he just tell her? Why must he evade her, put her off, and pretend that he wasn't? While he did that, her guest had the advantage over her, and Sanaki would not stand for another insinuation as to her minister's unfaithfulness that she couldn't respond to properly because she was ignorant. There was no room for ignorance anymore. She didn't need Ashera's dreams to tell her not to make mistakes in this situation.
Something important was happening, and Sephiran was running away from it. She'd never known him to be a coward.
She tried on two more dresses before she found one to suit her purpose and pulled the braid over her shoulder to unravel it. If Sephiran wasn't waiting out there when she left her room--
But he was there, waiting by the dining table, leafing through his papers when she opened the door and swept out, hair half-twisted around her fingers. He bowed and apologized for being late, though a glance at the clock told Sanaki she'd wasted almost forty minutes on the matter of what to wear, and he'd probably waited patiently for most of that. "You should have knocked," she said, watching him straighten and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "I've inconvenienced you."
"No." Sephiran folded an arm at his back, looking aside. "Court is adjourned for the day. As long as you sign these before morning, there is no problem."
Sanaki crossed the room, untwisted the rest of her braid, and shook it loose over her shoulder. "Is it going well?"
His eyes followed the sway of her hair. "There isn't much that can go wrong," he said. "Hetzel pleaded guilty, and Rafiel was quite persuasive. These papers are a necessary formality."
She spared the documents a glance. He'd brought out her writing box and seal. "Understood."
He lifted his gaze, met hers, and Sanaki wondered how she'd managed not to notice all of the tiny details Kilvas meticulously hinted at, picked out, criticized. There were no creases in Sephiran's skin, no lines spidering from the corners of his eyes as they did on Sigrun's face, even on the raven king's. The translucent color was even more delicate than her own complexion. The crinkled texture of his irises bled into the darkness at the center of his eye until there was almost no delineation.
How many times had she turned her back on him when noticing these things? She felt the urge to do so even now. He was so still, too still, like an animal frozen in the sights of a hunter. Sanaki lifted her hand and felt his heartbeat through his coat, striking almost as fast as she could run, like bare feet slapping a quick staccato on the marble tiles outside.
"I won't let him have you."
She drew her hand back and watched his lips press back together. "Since when has that been your decision?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you think to gain from it? He won't be what you want without a sacrifice I cannot see him willing to make."
Sanaki stepped closer and felt him tense, but he didn't give ground. How stubborn. "Is that why you continue to refuse me?" He jerked back, almost stumbled, and she followed him, grasping the lapels of his coat with both hands. If she couldn't run away from it, he most certainly would not be allowed to get out of it either. "Show me, Sephiran." She combed his hair back and rubbed the shell of his ear between her fingers where it should have ended in a point, watched his eyes flicker and lid. "Is that even your name? Tell me."
"I can't," he breathed, grasping her wrist. "I'm sorry--"
"If you would trust me--" Sanaki's curled her other hand into a fist around the braided trim of his wide collar. "If you'd told me, if I'd known, I wouldn't have asked you to do that."
He lowered his head, and his sigh stirred her hair. "Don't fret over it."
"You can't just tell me that--"
"Sanaki." He released her wrist and she felt his arm curve around her back. "I am not the only one endangered by my secrets. We're too involved as it is. When they find a way to pull me down--"
"No." Sanaki let him hide his face in her hair, fingers creasing the starched linen sleeve, fisting where she felt his heart. Men, she had heard it said, were never as controlled as they liked to think; their defenses were prone to crumbling under pressure-- and though she'd not bothered to listen beyond that, she felt the truth of it when she pressed flush against him, thigh to thigh, and his nails bit through her velvet into her ribs. "They can't do anything to me."
He turned his head, staring, lips parted. "A knife in the dark--"
"I am not my grandmother." His eyes had darkened, the pupils dilated. She rested her palm against his face so he couldn't look away. "That will not happen. We won't allow it - will we."
"No." Sephiran shook his head, the motion slight. "Of course not, but--" He blinked, and his gaze slid toward the door.
"What?" When he looked back at her his arm tightened around her waist. "What--"
"Kilvas." He held her another moment, and then let his arm slide away and stepped back. "He just arrived."
"How do you know that?" Sanaki glanced at the door. "Did you hear the other door open?"
"I hear him speaking to Tanith."
She frowned, first at the door and then at Sephiran, who shrugged. Birds have excellent optical and audio capability she'd been told before as explanation for the raven king's knack for overhearing conversations, ferreting out secrets, money - the shine attracts them - and spying out odd gatherings. How convenient. Perhaps earlier--
Yes, earlier, Kilvas was indeed making a point, was he not - and perhaps she was not its intended target after all.
Sanaki sighed sharply, averting her gaze to a safe bit of floor, and felt her face heat again. I'm going to kill him. After the matter with Daein was resolved, perhaps, but Kilvas had embarrassed her one to many times. He wasn't going to get away with that. He was too useful to be rid of permanently, but what a relief it was going to be when he was free and out of her hair.
"Go to my room," she said, when the desire to snap the command had passed. "We aren't finished yet."
"He'll know," Sephiran said.
"That's his problem." She smoothed her dress, noting the way his eyes followed her hands. "Eavesdrop, I don't care. But stay."
He straightened her neckline, pulling it up where it had crept over her shoulder, and then nodded and moved past her to the other side of the room. Sanaki waited for the sound of the door; it opened, clicked shut, and she went to the table to reach for her writing box. At least she could make it look like real business was being conducted.
Tanith knocked and opened the door to announce her guest. Her eyebrows lifted when Sephiran failed to show himself, but Sanaki shook her head and motioned for the raven to enter. "I won't see anyone else right now," she told her knight, opening the box and uncapping the inkwell. "Take messages and send them away. I'll check with you later." Her knight nodded, closed the door, and she waited for the sound of the raven king's approach before she spoke, dipping her pen and signing the first of Sephiran's documents - the formal charges. "Start talking. And stay-- right there," she said, pointing with the pen when he was at the edge of the rug, five steps away. If he came any closer she might be overwhelmed by the temptation to stab him with the nib.
He stopped where she commanded, arms crossed. "You really want to do this with him in the--"
"Who I keep in my bedchamber isn't your concern. Now speak." Sanaki turned back to the table and signed the proposal for penalties and punishment after skimming the list. Everything was as they'd discussed. "Daein. What is he doing?"
"Nasir is running around cleaning up after him. Mostly minor connections, but there are a few big fish they're paying me to silence." She heard his heels on the hardwood floor; he paced away. "Two council members, several senators from the lower house. You can nail Seliora for customs and tariff evasion, and he has a pretty long list of deals across the border that would probably constitute tax fraud."
Not surprising. He had land and personal holdings all along the official trade routes to Daein - there were likely a few unofficial roads under his umbrella as well. She wet the red inkstone, swirling a brush over the surface to loosen the pigment, and applied her stamp. "What about the others? Lekain, Valtome?"
Kilvas folded his wings, and the sound reminded her of a sigh. "Circumstantial."
Sanaki pounded her seal onto the first document. "Of course."
"I'll do my best," he said. "So far they've had no direct contact, but if you pull off this plan with Hetzel, it'll happen. I'll keep whatever evidence I can."
"You do that," she said, stamping the second form. "Even if it means exposing your intent to the prince, do you understand? That's an order. Our goal is the senior council. Everything else is negotiable."
"If you say so, Empress."
Sanaki rested her seal in its compartment and looked over her shoulder. "Need I say I would prefer you do so without betraying any of my other interests, and preferably without any incidents that might interfere with the court proceedings? And if you can help it, try not to antagonize my minister at my expense."
Kilvas showed far too many teeth with his smile. "I'm glad you did."
She snapped the writing case shut. "Keep talking."
It seemed every time she spoke to someone lately, it was to extract information that should have been hers to begin with, and dragging it from their grasp required force on par with a contingent of pegasus knights. And what leap of reasoning should have led her to suspect Sephiran to be part of the problem? Kilvas, she expected to be evasive; asking for honesty from a senator had never entered her mind. But her prime minister - her aide, her mentor?
Sanaki shooed Kilvas out as soon as he was finished and tucked the forms into their folder where they wouldn't be tampered with. She took it with her to the bedchamber and entered with a smile. "Now-- we can take our time. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Sephiran rose from the edge of the bed and said, tone flat, "I never expected to lecture you on the ethics of using your body to accomplish your goals, empress."
Sanaki laughed sharply and pulled the door closed with a snap, flipping the lock with her fingers. "If I'd known it would be so effective, I'd have tried before now." His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to retort. "No." She pointed the folder at his chest, striding forward. "I am tired of learning your secrets from other people, Sephiran! You're going to give it up. Right now."
He backed away from the point of the folder. "Now isn't the best time--"
"The best time was years ago, when we could have avoided this mess." Sanaki tossed the folder aside. It landed on her breakfast table with a clatter of disturbed utensils. "You--" She stabbed her finger at his chest, pushing backward to make him sit. "You've lied to me all these years--"
Sephiran grabbed her hand and pulled, spinning her so quickly she stumbled and fell back onto the mattress. His weight pinned her, her hand held immobile above her head. "This is not a game you will win," he said softly, pressing her wrist into the quilt. His knee held the other to her side. "You don't know what you're doing, and your 'turn or two' with Kilvas will not help you." His face was mere centimeters away, too close for her to read his expression, but she could see her reflection in his eyes, pale and wide-eyed. The dimness made them appear dark when they narrowed, like stones, like glass. "He hasn't played with you seriously. Would you know how to handle him if he did?"
Sanaki squirmed and yanked her hand from beneath his knee. "You aren't Kilvas." Instead of pushing him away she worked her fingers under his collar and pulled. "You aren't like him at all."
"No, I am not." Sephiran pressed the hand he'd captured flat, wove their fingers together, allowing her to draw him in. His hair slid over his shoulder and drifted down, brushing her face with feather-light touches, and curled over her throat. "And I am not like the others anymore. I am not like Rafiel. If you push me, I will not bend forever."
Sanaki tried not to frown. She didn't want him to bend, or break. It would be nice if his composure crumbled once in a while, like it did in the parlor; if he'd given her so much as a glance, considered her on her own merit, if he refused because he didn't love or desire her, that would be fine-- or, if not fine, at least she would understand. "It isn't Rafiel I want," she said, curving her fingers over his hand. "Nor Kilvas."
His hold relaxed and he drew back slightly, resting his weight on his knees. "You don't know what you want."
Sanaki released him and rested her hand over her chest, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers. "Why don't you tell me. Tell me all about it. Tell me why I should change my mind just because of your background. The council? Let them burn."
Sephiran finally averted his gaze. "I don't think you should change your mind." He sat up and pulled his hand free, settling onto the bed beside her and spreading his hand over her middle. "I'm not even sure I want you to."
She levered herself up on her elbows, staring at the line on his forehead. Was this the same Sephiran she was just arguing with? "I don't understand you," she said, feeling him trace the embroidery over her ribs. "What-- and why--"
He shook his head quickly and pulled her up. "I'll tell you," he said, and let her lean back against him like he used to when she climbed into his lap for stories. "You'll learn to understand."
..............................................................
I... it's... a power play.
Notes for later: I think the pacing between the last few conversations (Sephiran, Naesala, Sephiran again) needs to be stretched a bit, maybe; the scenes themselves might move too fast, which could work for the last one if done right. I'm not sure yet, as I haven't had time to let it sit. Also, I think the last part especially needs some work.
I kind of hate themes on Wednesdays and Thursdays, because they make me rush. I get home too late on those days and have to post ahead of time.
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: October 8 - power play
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Soren, Sephiran, Naesala
Rating: T
Words: 4482
Notes: ... the truth comes out.
AU, part nine of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
.............................................
Sanaki spent the rest of her day looking over her shoulder; for Sephiran with a folder of notes under one arm, come to notify her of the proceedings, and for the shadow of the raven king's wings - in animal or human form, it wouldn't have mattered. He never finished his report, and in the time that stretched between her minister's departure and the moment her clock struck ten-thirty and required her to leave the quiet of her rooms to meet her guest once again, he could have given the rest of his report a thousand times over.
She had Tanith braid her hair, and descended to the designated meeting place at the center of the palace garden with a spellbook under one arm and Zelgius at her side instead of his master. They'd discussed this, of course; she knew before Soren arrived the Senior Council would be required to shoulder the burden of her normal duties so she could be here flirting with Daein. Sanaki would have welcomed a finance report just then, or a list of territories that had not yet paid their yearly tribute. The number of ships struck by Kilvas pirates at the strait had gone down drastically, and while that was not necessarily more interesting than the prince she watched bow to her in his pale winter coat, she thought it would not leave as bitter a taste in her mouth as he did.
"Your tome," she said when he straightened, holding the book out. "I admit, it is not to my taste. Even if one minimized the personal risk involved, these spells would be ineffective anywhere but a battlefield."
Soren lifted it from her hands and folded his arm around the book, holding it against his hip. "You don't lead campaigns personally, Empress?"
Sanaki buttoned her collar closed against the chill and wished she'd worn a cloak. The prince's shadow had shed his heavy winter gear so the plates of armor he wore glinted in the gray light. Daein was still covered in snow, she thought, but it was hard to imagine Sienne locked in ice this far into the year. Was this comfortable weather for them? Was it like the height of a Daein spring, or the heat of summer? The prince did not appear to be uncomfortable in his heavy clothing. "To date we've only suffered small regional uprisings. My presence would accomplish nothing."
He lifted a shoulder in a shrug. "I was told the higher servants of Ashera are required to abstain from war. In Daein our clergy is forbidden from bearing weapons - even magic."
Sanaki frowned. "But wasn't that your father's--" The prince nodded, and she watched the end of his braid flit on the breeze. "The scripture doesn't forbid anybody from participating." She tilted her head to the marble bench. Soren followed her, and she sat down. "Ashera hates war - any kind of war. One of our early rulers determined it would be best for her priesthood to stay on the sidelines and follow Lehran's example."
"So you won't be construed as supporting the chaos?" Soren took his place beside her, fingering the gilded edge of his book. "Does it work?"
She looked at him, lifting a brow before she could stop herself. "I don't follow."
"Does your tradition boast of any success in promoting order on the continent?" he asked.
"How does one make such a judgement?" Sanaki let her expression melt away and kept the muscles of her face stiff, still. The breeze chilled her fingers. The prince could have watched her less intently. He must know how unnerving his eyes were - just vivid enough not to be mistaken for brown, but deep as velvet folds and thoroughly inhuman. They reminded her, for a moment, of Rafiel. Of Sephiran. "Begnion promotes order no differently than other countries."
Soren tugged on the fingers of his gloves, pulling them off and tucking them in a deep pocket. "When was this decision made - at the founding of the empire? Near that time?" She nodded, and he wove his fingers together over his knee. "Yet it took no more than a few hundred years for the northern territories to fragment and break away, and the sub-humans started another war with their migration, which it seems your Apostle did not detect, or it surely would have been avoided in Ashera's name..."
"The Apostle is not infallible." Sanaki curled her fingers in, pressing them into her lap. The wool of her riding dress was woven smooth, the surface cool. "Ashera dreams of many things. She has warned us before of famine and disaster--"
"And when she doesn't warn you?" He relented and turned his face away. "There are times when she has remained silent, aren't there - your court labors through one now. And without the voice of the goddess, what do you turn to for relief? Perhaps to her artifacts."
Though he said it without inflection, Sanaki felt her teeth clench. She relaxed her jaw with difficulty. "You refer to the stolen medallion. Will its return be part of the nuptial agreement?"
Soren snorted softly - it might have been a laugh. "Must we return to that old accusation?"
"That was your intent, was it not?"
"My intent," he said, "is to present a side of the story you likely haven't heard, not to argue the veracity of either claim. The theft happened before we were born. The case went nowhere, but I assure you it will be part of these negotiations. We should be prepared when they try to bargain us away to cover their own mistakes."
Her mouth twisted. "You're too kind."
He cast her a sideways glance. "It's the truth."
They remained in the garden for several hours, taking a midday meal under a dome of climbing rose and sweetpea vines, discussing the accusations made between their countries when the artifact was stolen. The servants were clearing the table and replacing the platter of roasted vegetables with tea service when one of her aides delivered a letter. The Athenon family would be hosting their annual spring gala in a week's time, and would she be pleased to attend with her guest and bless their celebration? We may as well agree, Sanaki told him, and you can let me know afterward if their wit is sharp enough for your taste.
As if she had time to waste on parties. The charges against Hetzel should be drafted and waiting on the table for her signature and seal. There wasn't much for Sanaki to oversee when he'd pled guilty; Sephiran would take care of his sentence, but the aftermath, the accusations and proofs Hetzel would present to implicate his colleagues-- that would be a mess.
Perhaps she should have been ashamed for how she looked forward to that. "It's Serenes business," Sanaki said when the servant was sent away with her reply. "The council has yet to show any interest in that, and I doubt that will change."
"Your minister has always shown a great deal too much."
Sanaki traced the lip of her teacup with her finger. "It's only natural."
"Because of his origin?" The prince picked up his tea, pausing to breathe the steam before he took a short sip. "I've heard about that. Finding records has proven difficult."
She watched him drink, fingers still on the saucer, and thought maybe she would prefer he try to dazzle her with a pretty lie or two instead. Why not? The truth, as he termed it, could at least be couched in more attractive terms. "Is that what your assistant has been doing since your arrival? Stirring up trouble for my minister?"
"Not at all. He knows the minister's past well enough, though if he stumbles across any relevant documents--" Soren glanced up, lifting his eyebrows. "Evidence - that's always the problem when it comes to men like Duke Persis. I know you've had similar problems with other members of the senior council."
Sanaki leaned back and let her hands slide into her lap. "Tradition," she said, shifting in her seat. "It would not be Begnion without the underhanded dealings of senators. There'd be nothing to do."
Of course, he said, but his smile was false, and Sanaki didn't bother to return it. She knew the medallion's history, knew the physical danger it presented, and if the thief, whoever he might be, wished to risk his own destruction by possessing the thing, that was his concern. One slip, and they would know where to look. Who in their right mind would desire the dark god's release, in any case? And how likely was a continental war? She would never involve her people in the squabbles of younger countries. Begnion belonged to Ashera, and Sanaki would abide by her wish and remain neutral.
Yet-- there was Crimea. Crimea, who sent tribute and had a claim on her protection. Crimea, faced with a Daein military presence they might not know about just yet. Was it her concern?
She returned to her rooms soon after; the clock read half-past three, and she sent Zelgius away with a message requesting Sephiran's presence along with the minutes taken of the trial proceedings. Let Sephiran in immediately, she told Tanith at the door, but be sure to detain Kilvas when he arrives. And he had better come back, she muttered, if only to answer for his breach of conduct.
They sent for tea, and Sanaki went to her bedroom to change. There were so many new additions to the wardrobe and her chests she didn't know where to start. She thought of the indigo gown because it had annoyed Sephiran when she tried it on, but meeting him in such finery would be ridiculous. There was no satisfaction in a conversation he spent averting his eyes - or worse, staring intently at her face to the exclusion of all else.
She remembered being told a long time ago, perhaps by Kilvas, the difference in custom between beorc and laguz when it came to attraction. She was thirteen or fourteen, he was teasing her for being obvious in her attention to Sephiran. But Sephiran was beautiful - of course she noticed, she always had, and when she looked at him that year he was more than just pretty - more than an image. She wanted to feel the slide of his hair between her fingers, or perhaps to touch his lips and see if they were soft.
Then Sanaki made the fatal mistake of asking Kilvas, am I attractive? because Sigrun would tell her that yes, of course she was attractive, and Tanith would probably say the same. They were obligated to say so. And he laughed and laughed--
Just thinking about it made her face heat. She pulled a violet dress from the wardrobe and shed her riding habit, kicking it into the corner behind the screen.
It isn't looks, Empress. Not that it hurts to have good plumage. He'd grinned at her glare, and she remembered he wouldn't let her touch his wings. The qualities laguz look for are more practical. Think of it in political terms - if you were to marry, would you choose your husband from a nobody family?
Of course not. She was an empress. If she married-- Strength? Charisma? But no, it was much simpler than that. You're too young, he said, eyes lingering on her chest, her waist, I can't really say, and she'd fought the impulse to pull her mantle closed, not understanding what he was looking for and yet thinking his point obvious.
It was time to dig to the bottom of Sephiran's reasons, whatever they were. He claimed impropriety, and yet Kilvas had a point, no matter how graceless his explanation had been - that was a lie. This was all tangled up with the raven king's other accusations, with the prince's claim, and with that uncanny way Rafiel smiled and made her think she was looking at someone else. Why couldn't he just tell her? Why must he evade her, put her off, and pretend that he wasn't? While he did that, her guest had the advantage over her, and Sanaki would not stand for another insinuation as to her minister's unfaithfulness that she couldn't respond to properly because she was ignorant. There was no room for ignorance anymore. She didn't need Ashera's dreams to tell her not to make mistakes in this situation.
Something important was happening, and Sephiran was running away from it. She'd never known him to be a coward.
She tried on two more dresses before she found one to suit her purpose and pulled the braid over her shoulder to unravel it. If Sephiran wasn't waiting out there when she left her room--
But he was there, waiting by the dining table, leafing through his papers when she opened the door and swept out, hair half-twisted around her fingers. He bowed and apologized for being late, though a glance at the clock told Sanaki she'd wasted almost forty minutes on the matter of what to wear, and he'd probably waited patiently for most of that. "You should have knocked," she said, watching him straighten and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear. "I've inconvenienced you."
"No." Sephiran folded an arm at his back, looking aside. "Court is adjourned for the day. As long as you sign these before morning, there is no problem."
Sanaki crossed the room, untwisted the rest of her braid, and shook it loose over her shoulder. "Is it going well?"
His eyes followed the sway of her hair. "There isn't much that can go wrong," he said. "Hetzel pleaded guilty, and Rafiel was quite persuasive. These papers are a necessary formality."
She spared the documents a glance. He'd brought out her writing box and seal. "Understood."
He lifted his gaze, met hers, and Sanaki wondered how she'd managed not to notice all of the tiny details Kilvas meticulously hinted at, picked out, criticized. There were no creases in Sephiran's skin, no lines spidering from the corners of his eyes as they did on Sigrun's face, even on the raven king's. The translucent color was even more delicate than her own complexion. The crinkled texture of his irises bled into the darkness at the center of his eye until there was almost no delineation.
How many times had she turned her back on him when noticing these things? She felt the urge to do so even now. He was so still, too still, like an animal frozen in the sights of a hunter. Sanaki lifted her hand and felt his heartbeat through his coat, striking almost as fast as she could run, like bare feet slapping a quick staccato on the marble tiles outside.
"I won't let him have you."
She drew her hand back and watched his lips press back together. "Since when has that been your decision?"
His eyes narrowed slightly. "What do you think to gain from it? He won't be what you want without a sacrifice I cannot see him willing to make."
Sanaki stepped closer and felt him tense, but he didn't give ground. How stubborn. "Is that why you continue to refuse me?" He jerked back, almost stumbled, and she followed him, grasping the lapels of his coat with both hands. If she couldn't run away from it, he most certainly would not be allowed to get out of it either. "Show me, Sephiran." She combed his hair back and rubbed the shell of his ear between her fingers where it should have ended in a point, watched his eyes flicker and lid. "Is that even your name? Tell me."
"I can't," he breathed, grasping her wrist. "I'm sorry--"
"If you would trust me--" Sanaki's curled her other hand into a fist around the braided trim of his wide collar. "If you'd told me, if I'd known, I wouldn't have asked you to do that."
He lowered his head, and his sigh stirred her hair. "Don't fret over it."
"You can't just tell me that--"
"Sanaki." He released her wrist and she felt his arm curve around her back. "I am not the only one endangered by my secrets. We're too involved as it is. When they find a way to pull me down--"
"No." Sanaki let him hide his face in her hair, fingers creasing the starched linen sleeve, fisting where she felt his heart. Men, she had heard it said, were never as controlled as they liked to think; their defenses were prone to crumbling under pressure-- and though she'd not bothered to listen beyond that, she felt the truth of it when she pressed flush against him, thigh to thigh, and his nails bit through her velvet into her ribs. "They can't do anything to me."
He turned his head, staring, lips parted. "A knife in the dark--"
"I am not my grandmother." His eyes had darkened, the pupils dilated. She rested her palm against his face so he couldn't look away. "That will not happen. We won't allow it - will we."
"No." Sephiran shook his head, the motion slight. "Of course not, but--" He blinked, and his gaze slid toward the door.
"What?" When he looked back at her his arm tightened around her waist. "What--"
"Kilvas." He held her another moment, and then let his arm slide away and stepped back. "He just arrived."
"How do you know that?" Sanaki glanced at the door. "Did you hear the other door open?"
"I hear him speaking to Tanith."
She frowned, first at the door and then at Sephiran, who shrugged. Birds have excellent optical and audio capability she'd been told before as explanation for the raven king's knack for overhearing conversations, ferreting out secrets, money - the shine attracts them - and spying out odd gatherings. How convenient. Perhaps earlier--
Yes, earlier, Kilvas was indeed making a point, was he not - and perhaps she was not its intended target after all.
Sanaki sighed sharply, averting her gaze to a safe bit of floor, and felt her face heat again. I'm going to kill him. After the matter with Daein was resolved, perhaps, but Kilvas had embarrassed her one to many times. He wasn't going to get away with that. He was too useful to be rid of permanently, but what a relief it was going to be when he was free and out of her hair.
"Go to my room," she said, when the desire to snap the command had passed. "We aren't finished yet."
"He'll know," Sephiran said.
"That's his problem." She smoothed her dress, noting the way his eyes followed her hands. "Eavesdrop, I don't care. But stay."
He straightened her neckline, pulling it up where it had crept over her shoulder, and then nodded and moved past her to the other side of the room. Sanaki waited for the sound of the door; it opened, clicked shut, and she went to the table to reach for her writing box. At least she could make it look like real business was being conducted.
Tanith knocked and opened the door to announce her guest. Her eyebrows lifted when Sephiran failed to show himself, but Sanaki shook her head and motioned for the raven to enter. "I won't see anyone else right now," she told her knight, opening the box and uncapping the inkwell. "Take messages and send them away. I'll check with you later." Her knight nodded, closed the door, and she waited for the sound of the raven king's approach before she spoke, dipping her pen and signing the first of Sephiran's documents - the formal charges. "Start talking. And stay-- right there," she said, pointing with the pen when he was at the edge of the rug, five steps away. If he came any closer she might be overwhelmed by the temptation to stab him with the nib.
He stopped where she commanded, arms crossed. "You really want to do this with him in the--"
"Who I keep in my bedchamber isn't your concern. Now speak." Sanaki turned back to the table and signed the proposal for penalties and punishment after skimming the list. Everything was as they'd discussed. "Daein. What is he doing?"
"Nasir is running around cleaning up after him. Mostly minor connections, but there are a few big fish they're paying me to silence." She heard his heels on the hardwood floor; he paced away. "Two council members, several senators from the lower house. You can nail Seliora for customs and tariff evasion, and he has a pretty long list of deals across the border that would probably constitute tax fraud."
Not surprising. He had land and personal holdings all along the official trade routes to Daein - there were likely a few unofficial roads under his umbrella as well. She wet the red inkstone, swirling a brush over the surface to loosen the pigment, and applied her stamp. "What about the others? Lekain, Valtome?"
Kilvas folded his wings, and the sound reminded her of a sigh. "Circumstantial."
Sanaki pounded her seal onto the first document. "Of course."
"I'll do my best," he said. "So far they've had no direct contact, but if you pull off this plan with Hetzel, it'll happen. I'll keep whatever evidence I can."
"You do that," she said, stamping the second form. "Even if it means exposing your intent to the prince, do you understand? That's an order. Our goal is the senior council. Everything else is negotiable."
"If you say so, Empress."
Sanaki rested her seal in its compartment and looked over her shoulder. "Need I say I would prefer you do so without betraying any of my other interests, and preferably without any incidents that might interfere with the court proceedings? And if you can help it, try not to antagonize my minister at my expense."
Kilvas showed far too many teeth with his smile. "I'm glad you did."
She snapped the writing case shut. "Keep talking."
It seemed every time she spoke to someone lately, it was to extract information that should have been hers to begin with, and dragging it from their grasp required force on par with a contingent of pegasus knights. And what leap of reasoning should have led her to suspect Sephiran to be part of the problem? Kilvas, she expected to be evasive; asking for honesty from a senator had never entered her mind. But her prime minister - her aide, her mentor?
Sanaki shooed Kilvas out as soon as he was finished and tucked the forms into their folder where they wouldn't be tampered with. She took it with her to the bedchamber and entered with a smile. "Now-- we can take our time. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
Sephiran rose from the edge of the bed and said, tone flat, "I never expected to lecture you on the ethics of using your body to accomplish your goals, empress."
Sanaki laughed sharply and pulled the door closed with a snap, flipping the lock with her fingers. "If I'd known it would be so effective, I'd have tried before now." His eyes narrowed and his mouth opened to retort. "No." She pointed the folder at his chest, striding forward. "I am tired of learning your secrets from other people, Sephiran! You're going to give it up. Right now."
He backed away from the point of the folder. "Now isn't the best time--"
"The best time was years ago, when we could have avoided this mess." Sanaki tossed the folder aside. It landed on her breakfast table with a clatter of disturbed utensils. "You--" She stabbed her finger at his chest, pushing backward to make him sit. "You've lied to me all these years--"
Sephiran grabbed her hand and pulled, spinning her so quickly she stumbled and fell back onto the mattress. His weight pinned her, her hand held immobile above her head. "This is not a game you will win," he said softly, pressing her wrist into the quilt. His knee held the other to her side. "You don't know what you're doing, and your 'turn or two' with Kilvas will not help you." His face was mere centimeters away, too close for her to read his expression, but she could see her reflection in his eyes, pale and wide-eyed. The dimness made them appear dark when they narrowed, like stones, like glass. "He hasn't played with you seriously. Would you know how to handle him if he did?"
Sanaki squirmed and yanked her hand from beneath his knee. "You aren't Kilvas." Instead of pushing him away she worked her fingers under his collar and pulled. "You aren't like him at all."
"No, I am not." Sephiran pressed the hand he'd captured flat, wove their fingers together, allowing her to draw him in. His hair slid over his shoulder and drifted down, brushing her face with feather-light touches, and curled over her throat. "And I am not like the others anymore. I am not like Rafiel. If you push me, I will not bend forever."
Sanaki tried not to frown. She didn't want him to bend, or break. It would be nice if his composure crumbled once in a while, like it did in the parlor; if he'd given her so much as a glance, considered her on her own merit, if he refused because he didn't love or desire her, that would be fine-- or, if not fine, at least she would understand. "It isn't Rafiel I want," she said, curving her fingers over his hand. "Nor Kilvas."
His hold relaxed and he drew back slightly, resting his weight on his knees. "You don't know what you want."
Sanaki released him and rested her hand over her chest, twisting a strand of hair between her fingers. "Why don't you tell me. Tell me all about it. Tell me why I should change my mind just because of your background. The council? Let them burn."
Sephiran finally averted his gaze. "I don't think you should change your mind." He sat up and pulled his hand free, settling onto the bed beside her and spreading his hand over her middle. "I'm not even sure I want you to."
She levered herself up on her elbows, staring at the line on his forehead. Was this the same Sephiran she was just arguing with? "I don't understand you," she said, feeling him trace the embroidery over her ribs. "What-- and why--"
He shook his head quickly and pulled her up. "I'll tell you," he said, and let her lean back against him like he used to when she climbed into his lap for stories. "You'll learn to understand."
..............................................................
I... it's... a power play.
Notes for later: I think the pacing between the last few conversations (Sephiran, Naesala, Sephiran again) needs to be stretched a bit, maybe; the scenes themselves might move too fast, which could work for the last one if done right. I'm not sure yet, as I haven't had time to let it sit. Also, I think the last part especially needs some work.
I kind of hate themes on Wednesdays and Thursdays, because they make me rush. I get home too late on those days and have to post ahead of time.
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Date: 2008-11-07 12:54 am (UTC)Well, that is a very summarized version of my arguments, but well, it really would be too long to give all the details. I hope it's still useful.
Anyway, I love your narration and characters all the better. :P