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runicloreMomentum
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: October 24 - once more, with feeling
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Sephiran, Rafiel, Naesala, senators
Rating: K
Words: 4245
Notes: AU, part ten of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
It's time to take a bit of a break from this. I'm starting to hate everything I write for the Chronicle, and that's a sign I've been thinking too much about it. Hopefully it won't be a long break, but it might last through my November deadlines if I manage not to procrastinate.Yeah right.
With that in mind, I cut this chapter short - the rest of it was fluff anyway, you're not missing much - and have not edited. (I've been saying that a lot lately, and I think this is why.) I'll do it later when I start up again, and maybe add the beginning of the trial like I originally wanted to, but right now I just need to get this installment out and think about something else.
The title is ironic and bad. :D
.............................................
"These talents," Sanaki said, resting her forehead on the cushioned arm of her divan. "What exactly are they?" She folded her legs up onto the seat, hugged her arms around a silk pillow, felt Sephiran's fingers press into the knot behind her shoulder blade. The day was over, the tedious labyrinth of paperwork and meetings navigated and conquered. It was only five o'clock and yet she felt it should be ten or eleven, and the sky much darker than it was, though rain had made most of the day dreary.
"The galdrar," he said, hand pausing. "Though your grandmother's voice..."
After eight days of discussion and debate over the penalties she proposed for Hetzel's crime, the trial was over. The other senior council members were especially vocal, Lekain loudest of the lot, and she wondered if he was so eager to defend his colleague because there existed some sense of solidarity amongst the six, or if he was simply afraid the conviction would open him to more intense scrutiny. It could have been either; much of her life had been spent biting her lip, watching them layer their resources, their allies, their testimonies, to help each other evade censure. Only Sephiran had ever come between them, and most often, he told her, Hetzel would not be budged simply because he was afraid.
Of what? What was he afraid of? Lekain was powerful, influential, but so were all the council members. What was it he could do that the others could not? Sephiran couldn't answer that question. Even I would not condone this plan if success were not relatively sure, he said, regarding the upcoming roundup. If nothing else, he has the money to bribe or intimidate half the senate to vote against us.
He nearly had me, Sephiran said then, after Serenes. When the medallion went missing--
But he didn't take it. He said he didn't, and Sanaki believed him. Why would he steal his own medallion when he had every right to walk into Serenes and take it openly if he so desired?
"Your grandmother used her voice well," he told her, and it felt like he was digging his fingers into her muscles. She gritted her teeth. "Pilgrimages to the capitol were popular at that time because the people wanted to hear Misaha sing. Even I found her voice enchanting, and I knew its secret."
"But that story, the one about the girl trampled during the spring pageant-- it's said my grandmother brought her back to life." Sanaki lifted her head and looked back. "Is that true?"
"True?" The pressure of his fingers relented a moment; Sephiran turned her head forward again, and worked her shoulders back. "You're doing it again. Sit still and focus on making yourself relax."
She sighed sharply and let her head fall onto the cushion again. What was the use? She tensed every time he worked at a knot simply because it hurt. Sanaki tried not to flinch when he went back to his task, and his touch softened a bit. "That isn't the only tale. They say she could heal anything. That she never fell ill, that she was spared the pain of childbirth, that Ashera spoke directly through her--"
"That is not true."
"How do you know? You said you weren't here--"
"Ashera does not use flesh to speak," he said. She heard him sit back, felt the cushion shift when he did, and his hands slid from her back. "And in any case, she is incapable of doing so now, even if she changed her mind - and she rarely does that."
Sanaki picked at a loose thread on her skirt. It was a blue flower, and the silver edge was unraveling. "But-- the rest of it is true, isn't it? My grandmother brought that child back from the brink, good as new." She straightened, cracking her neck. Her hair coiled in her lap. The window dimmed, the sky outside darkening to gray again with clouds, swallowing the sun. "There are so many things I can't do. I can't even pretend."
"I wouldn't want you to. It destroys the user's vitality. They call it a 'sacrifice' for good reason."
She turned, gathering her skirt up around her knees, and watched him contemplate the whitework hem, rubbing it between thumb and finger. Wisps of his hair caught on the ornate braid on his wide collar and bled over the white silk like brushes of ink. "My sister," she said, twisting her hair. "If she's alive--"
"I don't care." His hand rested on her knee a moment, and then he blinked and pulled it back quickly. The dim light made his face look ghostly when he turned it toward the window; shadows showed beneath his eyes, like hers, the badge of three sleepless nights and long days in the audience chamber - longer than hers. She was needed to pass judgment, to hear the formal testimonies, but he was required to oversee, to compose, to argue, all as her representative and as Hetzel's accuser. "You are my empress. I need no other."
Sanaki twisted her hair tighter, coiling the ends around and between her fingers, and did not look at him. "Your empress?"
"Yes." Sephiran pressed his hands to her cheeks and made her lift her head, holding her so she couldn't avoid his gaze, even though there were times the last week Sanaki wished she could. "Galdrar will not rule a country. In whose hands has power rested all these years? Having an ear for the goddess didn't help your ancestors."
How true that was. Song had not saved her grandmother. She used to imagine her as a stately woman, a thin silhouette with silver hair, whose voice would cow Lekain in one snap. Misaha didn't need Altina's legendary blades; she didn't need Ashera's blessings, because when she spoke others ran to do her bidding, and fought for her smile, and her hand on their heads as praise. Beloved Misaha, Sanaki always thought, must have been like Sephiran.
Would they get along if they met, she and her grandmother? Of course, Sanaki couldn't be sure she would exist, had things been different. Who was her father? Was he a noble, was he somebody her mother met in hiding - a protector, or a servant? It didn't matter, Sephiran told her, and yet, when she constructed these possibilities in her head, it mattered a great deal. Would she exist without her grandmother's death? He wouldn't tell her. He wasn't there. Sanaki's mother died after her birth because she wasn't a firstborn either - just a lesser child, someone able to maintain Altina's line, but not good enough to inherit the important attributes.
"Why," she asked, "why do they even bother with lesser--"
"Enough." Sephiran reached for her, pulled her arm over his shoulder and her legs straight. "If you won't see reason," he said, pulling her into his lap, picking her up, "then--"
"Stop!" Sanaki kicked, pressing him down, and he paused. "You can't lift me. This is ridiculous, you'll--"
"I used to carry you quite often," he said, head tilted, looking up at her. "And it's clear you need to be put to bed."
She frowned, but his grip relaxed and he settled on the divan again. "You're the one who needs sleep. These are perfectly valid concerns." He rolled his eyes, and she kicked the frame. I'm not a child was on the tip of her tongue, and he saw it coming, like he always did, lifting his eyebrow and challenging her to give it voice. And she considered, for a moment, giving voice to another thought - I'll go if you come with me - but now he would expect that too.
"I told you it doesn't matter. You're every bit as competent as Misaha was." His grip slackened, and though he opened his mouth to protest when she twisted to sit in his lap properly, he didn't, only sighed against her neck. "You trust my word in other matters. Why not this one?"
Sanaki leaned back to look at him, crossing her legs, and he held her still around the waist so she wouldn't slip. "You would say it anyway." She brushed an eyelash from his cheek, and smoothed his forehead when he started to frown. The skin was so soft it might bruise if she pressed too hard. Surely anybody else would feel discouraged in comparing themselves to him. Sanaki didn't bother - what did it matter if he was the one drawing gazes and sighs? She didn't want them. And they couldn't have him. "I can't believe a word you tell me."
Sephiran raised both eyebrows, taking a deep breath. "In that case, your majesty--" he pulled his legs from beneath her and she fell back with a yelp. "--you're crushing my delicate bones."
"You--" Sanaki grabbed the pillow behind her. "I am not--"
"Heavy?" He cast her a sideways glance. "Perhaps... graceless?"
She threw the pillow at him and reached for another, and he caught it when she tried to swipe him with it. "I'll show you--"
He laughed, yanked the pillow away. "Too easy. Try again."
She glared, because there weren't any pillows left to throw. A loop of hair fell over her eye, and she tossed her head to throw it back, sitting up on her elbows. His smile eventually faded, the pillow was set aside, out of her reach, and his fingers tickled her ankles where they rested.
"You would," she said. "Wouldn't you?"
Sephiran turned his eyes down, curling the fingers of his other hand under her knee, and she watched his gaze drift to the hem of her skirt, scrunched up around her thighs, and perhaps he meant to pull it down to cover her legs. "What can I say to that logic?" His eyes moved up to her face. "If I deny it, I might just be lying."
Sanaki sat up straight, bracing with both arms. "It's your job to support me, so of course--"
"Your handling of that embezzlement charge was abysmal."
"We discussed--" She paused, her teeth snapped shut. He tilted his head, as if to say, well?, and Sanaki rolled her eyes and turned her face away. It shows she remembered him saying that morning, his finger gentle on the skin beneath her eye. You'll have to cover it up. Perhaps Valtome wouldn't care or read into her lack of sleep - or he might interpret it correctly and wonder why she was so invested in the trial of one of her opponents. "Well then."
"You should go to bed," he said, lifting her legs from his lap. "The first day is always longest. I want you to be rested tomorrow."
How could she rest? This was the moment they'd been waiting for since Rafiel's arrival. She wanted it to begin immediately so they could get it over with, see to the arrests and the investigations-- Sanaki was tired of waiting. She was tired of the senate. If they waited one more minute, Lekain would find some way to weasel out of the charges. He always did.
The trial couldn't happen quickly enough.
*
Morning brought more rain. He was there to comb her hair straight after her bath, roll it back and plait it, and pin her headdress on. The thing looked beautiful on its stand, like a red silk crescent stitched with gold; it had to be pinned tightly so it wouldn't slip, and despite the precaution Sanaki would feel it move just a little every time she tilted her head. It was a stupid design, like a crown but without the benefit of knowing one wore a kingdom's worth of riches on one's head, and if they were accusing anybody but high councilmen, today, she would have left it in its box.
Begnion liked tradition. Senators were especially fond of it. And yet, they probably wouldn't appreciate her effort once they were on their knees to await her judgment.
Put your doubts to rest, Sephiran told her when he left to help Rafiel prepare. You embody Ashera's will in more ways than you realize.
Sanaki wanted to believe. The goddess would be angered by the treatment of laguz in her nation, in Daein, and even Crimea, where tolerance only reached as far as the king might ride on any given day. The fault lines between the races hadn't existed in the goddess's time the way they did now. Her servants had not killed each other in her name, because the last time beorc and laguz sought to destroy each other they were defeated by the flood, and when Ashera went to sleep, it was said, there were still many alive who remembered the long days when water covered everything but the mountaintops and the sanctuary of Serenes.
Rafiel told her that. He remembered the flood, but not the names of the places that angered the goddess with their wars. It could have been anywhere, he said, but it wasn't on Tellius - perhaps it was far on the other side of the ocean to the west, or across the land bridge that used to stretch to the south, where Phoenecis and Kilvas now stood. It wasn't until much later, of course, that the inequalities piled upon each other and the prejudices took root, so slowly nobody realized the extent of the problem until too late. I was just a child, but I remember when the senate passed the first laws limiting our rights in Begnion. How old? By our reckoning, close to your age now.
That long ago. She had as her councilors two herons, and even Kilvas, whose long years made him a more experienced ruler than she; three men who outlived the longest-lived of senators as a matter of natural course, whose wisdom could not be matched -- and they were dismissed. Why, for their wings? Or was it the point to their ears, or perhaps their ability to fly?
She didn't understand why it happened that way when the laws could have been prevented or overturned before they gained momentum. Where was Goldoa and its protests when laguz were denied the right to own property? What were her ancestors doing? Didn't they realize they were betraying their own heritage? Sephiran said her grandmother knew, and that meant they all did. They knew.
The sun was well above the rooftops when Sanaki left her rooms with Sigrun, Tanith and Marcia following behind. It peeked through a gap in the clouds, and the walkways glistened, slick with rain. Droplets gathered on leaves and branches, and the tap of their footsteps was accompanied with the steady drip of water from the gutters and stone overhangs. Marcia carried her train to keep it dry, but the hem of Sanaki's dress collected the moisture as she walked and clung to her ankles.
She paused at the rail to overlook the stretch of garden separating the palace from the business wing of the cathedral. The trees were leafing out, pale green and yellow creeping over their branches, and some frothed with tiny white blossoms that fluttered in the slightest drift of air and sent petals drifting down to the grass. She told Marcia to let the train down - her feet were getting wet anyway, the silk was damp, it made no difference - and listened to a voice beyond the juniper bushes, where the path down below curved and disappeared into a circle of maples.
That senator is sniffing after you like a starving dog the voice was saying, the words accented. If he comes back again--
Tell him I'm washing my hair.
Sanaki knew that voice. And where the path left the tree cover, she saw the shock of blue hair and the polished steel ring atop the hilt of the blade strapped to his back. Sigrun whispered at her shoulder, Lord Sephiran is coming, but she couldn't look away. Ike, the stern, silent protector, described how he would introduce the nameless senator to his sword as they rounded the bend and came into sight, and Soren punched his arm, saying that's disgusting, that's vulgar, you'll get us in trouble-- but he was laughing.
How novel. She didn't know he was capable of a real laugh.
A murmured Your Majesty and a hand at her elbow drew her attention away. She looked up at Sephiran, but he was watching the show as well, and in the shadow of the corridor behind him were Kilvas and Prince Rafiel, who was exchanging words with Sigrun. The heron smiled at Sanaki when he caught her gaze, but his hands were folded together tightly, and Sanaki felt the urge to apologize. He must not like these proceedings; the negativity, the hostility, and there was the attention it drew to him as well. Especially the attention of the senators, she thought.
"Is the session going to begin soon?" Daein's prince called from below.
Sanaki turned back to him, but it was Sephiran who answered. "In an hour's time. The doors will lock at ten forty."
The prince bowed and disappeared into the corridor below with his companion, this time proceeding with more decorum. She wrapped her hand around Sephiran's arm and let herself be led the remaining distance to her office with the others filing behind. Rafiel and Kilvas whispered, their heads tilted together when she looked back, but the details of their conversation were not quite audible, and Sanaki tried not to listen. The sunlight seemed to slant into the garden at a strange angle, and when they ascended the stairs to the fourth floor the entire area was silent and empty aside from her party and the marble carving of Ashera on the wall facing her office door.
Tanas and Hetzel were waiting for her arrival, and Zelgius bowed at her entrance, the leather straps of his armor creaking. Sanaki waved the formality away before the other two were fully turned from the window. Hetzel's shoulders were hunched, curved, as if he carried his weight in bricks upon his back. "I assume, Duke Tanas, your presence here means you've decided to support Hetzel's claims with your own confession," Sanaki said when she heard the door close.
"Indeed." Oliver's thick fingers twisted together, and his gaze strayed behind her. "Lord Sephiran has made a compelling offer."
Sanaki raised an eyebrow and glanced over her shoulder. Her minister's lips thinned. Rafiel murmured something in the old tongue, and Sephiran actually rolled his eyes. "I see." She turned back to the duke and her prisoner. Hetzel remained by the window, Zelgius with him, which was just as well; she wasn't positive she wanted to speak with him at all, perhaps not ever again. She left the others and walked around her desk to sit down. "Once you take this step there is no turning back. If you aren't ready to face them, surrender yourself now."
Oliver's mouth worked. "We never saw--" He paused, looking from her to Sephiran, or perhaps at Rafiel, and then he approached her desk. "Our bids were to view what they claimed was a Serenes noble," he said softly. "To view and perhaps buy, true, but-- but anybody experienced in the trade would know the futility of caging a heron. Hetzel was aware, and he would have set the prince free--"
"What he would have done does not matter, Duke Tanas." Sanaki didn't bother to lower her voice. They could hear, all of them - Sephiran and Rafiel at the center of the room, Kilvas from the other side, where he leaned against the door frame. "By participating in the auction, even to view, you are guilty of breaking the law. In return for your witness I will lessen your sentence, and we will keep your participation in bringing the case to court in mind as well. Nothing more. Is it worth it?"
"Yes." Oliver twisted his rings one by one, shifting, and he turned his head slightly as if he wanted to look back, but he resisted. "Your judgment is fair, empress, I only wanted to-- clarify."
You should've seen him salivate at Rafiel's entrance, Kilvas had said, after the third session. I guarantee you he'll cave - I give it two days. He'll need time to cut ties with Lekain's estate. Sanaki thought it a joke, but then Sephiran came to her three days ago with Oliver's offer to defect in return for amnesty. I want you to let him burn with the others, Sephiran said, lips turned down, but we need whatever support we can find - even Tanas.
Sanaki found the paperwork in a folder in her drawer, and opened it to the last page. "Your signature and seal, then." She pushed the writing tray with pen and ink across the desk. Oliver bent and reached for the pen slowly, but to his credit he didn't hesitate as she thought he would. She leaned to the side. "Kilvas."
She heard his wings snap and fold, and he appeared from behind Duke Tanas. "My people and Sephiran's are in place," Kilvas said, propping his hip at the corner of her desk.
The Duke's eyes slid in his direction. "May I ask--"
"No," Sanaki said, and his mouth snapped shut. She told him to wait by the window with Hetzel when he stamped the form with his seal, and after a moment of hand-wringing Oliver did as he was told. Sephiran left Rafiel seated on a stool and joined Kilvas at her desk. "Give the signal," she said softly, and pulled the form over to her side of the desk. The ink still gleamed, wet, and Oliver's hand, usually so neat and sweepingly beautiful - the only thing she'd ever liked about him - wavered in places.
He should be nervous. He should fear for his life, or at least for his fortune and property, as that was the only value Tanas had without the context of the trial to save him. Hetzel's property was to be formally seized at the beginning of the next month and added to the imperial holdings until a replacement could be found for his position, but Oliver-- she knew he was involved in unsavory activity. He'd cut ties with Lekain - which meant they'd existed in the first place, and that alone deserved punishment. What would they find when they searched his manor? Contraband, bribes-- or slaves?
"You're positive the senators are unaware?" she asked, and Kilvas nodded.
"Your guard is rounding the others up as we speak," Sephiran said. "They won't have time to hide anything. Lekain especially should be at a disadvantage."
"Good." Sanaki pulled a folder from the top drawer and slid Tanas's contract in. Her fingers trembled, and she hid her hands under the desk, clasped tightly in her lap. The plan was running so smoothly it might break to pieces in her hands; she told herself that was paranoia speaking, but she saw the same tension in Sephiran when she looked up to meet his unwavering stare. "Begin the search. Arrest anybody who tries to impede the process. Kilvas, have any messengers they send seized - try not to kill them unless absolutely necessary."
Sephiran laid his staff on her desk and pulled an envelope from a pocket in the lining of his coat. "This warrant should absolve you of such if it comes to that, but interrogating them might prove useful later."
Kilvas took it and slid his nail over the fold to open the envelope. "I'll do my best," he said, eyes skimming the paper, "but by the time they're sending messengers, word will be out. Gaddos men are trained to kill laguz. We might not have a choice."
"What about Culbert? Numida?" Sanaki frowned when he shrugged. Did that mean yes, the others had trained their militia in similar skill, or that he didn't know? "Get on with it, then. Sigrun will protect Rafiel until you return."
Kilvas folded the warrant and tucked it into his coat. "Your wish is my command, Empress."
Of course it was. His life depended on it after all; it was a shame she couldn't be sure of his loyalty otherwise. If he happened to find his blood contract while searching Lekain's estate--
Sanaki watched him leave and tried to believe this would be as easy as he made it sound.
............................................................
I was going to cut down the first scene, but that became too much effort. Sorry~ Actually, especially toward the end I think my unwillingness to write is clear in the quality. It's a sad state of affairs, especially when I really want to go farther and write the next chapters, but just can't scrape up the motivation to do so.
It's just as well, because I have some major projects coming up. Those should clear my head.
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: October 24 - once more, with feeling
Series: Fire Emblem 9/10
Character/Pairing: Sanaki, Sephiran, Rafiel, Naesala, senators
Rating: K
Words: 4245
Notes: AU, part ten of the Summer Chronicle. This is a first and ongoing draft; a list of known issues is being compiled here.
It's time to take a bit of a break from this. I'm starting to hate everything I write for the Chronicle, and that's a sign I've been thinking too much about it. Hopefully it won't be a long break, but it might last through my November deadlines if I manage not to procrastinate.
With that in mind, I cut this chapter short - the rest of it was fluff anyway, you're not missing much - and have not edited. (I've been saying that a lot lately, and I think this is why.) I'll do it later when I start up again, and maybe add the beginning of the trial like I originally wanted to, but right now I just need to get this installment out and think about something else.
The title is ironic and bad. :D
.............................................
"These talents," Sanaki said, resting her forehead on the cushioned arm of her divan. "What exactly are they?" She folded her legs up onto the seat, hugged her arms around a silk pillow, felt Sephiran's fingers press into the knot behind her shoulder blade. The day was over, the tedious labyrinth of paperwork and meetings navigated and conquered. It was only five o'clock and yet she felt it should be ten or eleven, and the sky much darker than it was, though rain had made most of the day dreary.
"The galdrar," he said, hand pausing. "Though your grandmother's voice..."
After eight days of discussion and debate over the penalties she proposed for Hetzel's crime, the trial was over. The other senior council members were especially vocal, Lekain loudest of the lot, and she wondered if he was so eager to defend his colleague because there existed some sense of solidarity amongst the six, or if he was simply afraid the conviction would open him to more intense scrutiny. It could have been either; much of her life had been spent biting her lip, watching them layer their resources, their allies, their testimonies, to help each other evade censure. Only Sephiran had ever come between them, and most often, he told her, Hetzel would not be budged simply because he was afraid.
Of what? What was he afraid of? Lekain was powerful, influential, but so were all the council members. What was it he could do that the others could not? Sephiran couldn't answer that question. Even I would not condone this plan if success were not relatively sure, he said, regarding the upcoming roundup. If nothing else, he has the money to bribe or intimidate half the senate to vote against us.
He nearly had me, Sephiran said then, after Serenes. When the medallion went missing--
But he didn't take it. He said he didn't, and Sanaki believed him. Why would he steal his own medallion when he had every right to walk into Serenes and take it openly if he so desired?
"Your grandmother used her voice well," he told her, and it felt like he was digging his fingers into her muscles. She gritted her teeth. "Pilgrimages to the capitol were popular at that time because the people wanted to hear Misaha sing. Even I found her voice enchanting, and I knew its secret."
"But that story, the one about the girl trampled during the spring pageant-- it's said my grandmother brought her back to life." Sanaki lifted her head and looked back. "Is that true?"
"True?" The pressure of his fingers relented a moment; Sephiran turned her head forward again, and worked her shoulders back. "You're doing it again. Sit still and focus on making yourself relax."
She sighed sharply and let her head fall onto the cushion again. What was the use? She tensed every time he worked at a knot simply because it hurt. Sanaki tried not to flinch when he went back to his task, and his touch softened a bit. "That isn't the only tale. They say she could heal anything. That she never fell ill, that she was spared the pain of childbirth, that Ashera spoke directly through her--"
"That is not true."
"How do you know? You said you weren't here--"
"Ashera does not use flesh to speak," he said. She heard him sit back, felt the cushion shift when he did, and his hands slid from her back. "And in any case, she is incapable of doing so now, even if she changed her mind - and she rarely does that."
Sanaki picked at a loose thread on her skirt. It was a blue flower, and the silver edge was unraveling. "But-- the rest of it is true, isn't it? My grandmother brought that child back from the brink, good as new." She straightened, cracking her neck. Her hair coiled in her lap. The window dimmed, the sky outside darkening to gray again with clouds, swallowing the sun. "There are so many things I can't do. I can't even pretend."
"I wouldn't want you to. It destroys the user's vitality. They call it a 'sacrifice' for good reason."
She turned, gathering her skirt up around her knees, and watched him contemplate the whitework hem, rubbing it between thumb and finger. Wisps of his hair caught on the ornate braid on his wide collar and bled over the white silk like brushes of ink. "My sister," she said, twisting her hair. "If she's alive--"
"I don't care." His hand rested on her knee a moment, and then he blinked and pulled it back quickly. The dim light made his face look ghostly when he turned it toward the window; shadows showed beneath his eyes, like hers, the badge of three sleepless nights and long days in the audience chamber - longer than hers. She was needed to pass judgment, to hear the formal testimonies, but he was required to oversee, to compose, to argue, all as her representative and as Hetzel's accuser. "You are my empress. I need no other."
Sanaki twisted her hair tighter, coiling the ends around and between her fingers, and did not look at him. "Your empress?"
"Yes." Sephiran pressed his hands to her cheeks and made her lift her head, holding her so she couldn't avoid his gaze, even though there were times the last week Sanaki wished she could. "Galdrar will not rule a country. In whose hands has power rested all these years? Having an ear for the goddess didn't help your ancestors."
How true that was. Song had not saved her grandmother. She used to imagine her as a stately woman, a thin silhouette with silver hair, whose voice would cow Lekain in one snap. Misaha didn't need Altina's legendary blades; she didn't need Ashera's blessings, because when she spoke others ran to do her bidding, and fought for her smile, and her hand on their heads as praise. Beloved Misaha, Sanaki always thought, must have been like Sephiran.
Would they get along if they met, she and her grandmother? Of course, Sanaki couldn't be sure she would exist, had things been different. Who was her father? Was he a noble, was he somebody her mother met in hiding - a protector, or a servant? It didn't matter, Sephiran told her, and yet, when she constructed these possibilities in her head, it mattered a great deal. Would she exist without her grandmother's death? He wouldn't tell her. He wasn't there. Sanaki's mother died after her birth because she wasn't a firstborn either - just a lesser child, someone able to maintain Altina's line, but not good enough to inherit the important attributes.
"Why," she asked, "why do they even bother with lesser--"
"Enough." Sephiran reached for her, pulled her arm over his shoulder and her legs straight. "If you won't see reason," he said, pulling her into his lap, picking her up, "then--"
"Stop!" Sanaki kicked, pressing him down, and he paused. "You can't lift me. This is ridiculous, you'll--"
"I used to carry you quite often," he said, head tilted, looking up at her. "And it's clear you need to be put to bed."
She frowned, but his grip relaxed and he settled on the divan again. "You're the one who needs sleep. These are perfectly valid concerns." He rolled his eyes, and she kicked the frame. I'm not a child was on the tip of her tongue, and he saw it coming, like he always did, lifting his eyebrow and challenging her to give it voice. And she considered, for a moment, giving voice to another thought - I'll go if you come with me - but now he would expect that too.
"I told you it doesn't matter. You're every bit as competent as Misaha was." His grip slackened, and though he opened his mouth to protest when she twisted to sit in his lap properly, he didn't, only sighed against her neck. "You trust my word in other matters. Why not this one?"
Sanaki leaned back to look at him, crossing her legs, and he held her still around the waist so she wouldn't slip. "You would say it anyway." She brushed an eyelash from his cheek, and smoothed his forehead when he started to frown. The skin was so soft it might bruise if she pressed too hard. Surely anybody else would feel discouraged in comparing themselves to him. Sanaki didn't bother - what did it matter if he was the one drawing gazes and sighs? She didn't want them. And they couldn't have him. "I can't believe a word you tell me."
Sephiran raised both eyebrows, taking a deep breath. "In that case, your majesty--" he pulled his legs from beneath her and she fell back with a yelp. "--you're crushing my delicate bones."
"You--" Sanaki grabbed the pillow behind her. "I am not--"
"Heavy?" He cast her a sideways glance. "Perhaps... graceless?"
She threw the pillow at him and reached for another, and he caught it when she tried to swipe him with it. "I'll show you--"
He laughed, yanked the pillow away. "Too easy. Try again."
She glared, because there weren't any pillows left to throw. A loop of hair fell over her eye, and she tossed her head to throw it back, sitting up on her elbows. His smile eventually faded, the pillow was set aside, out of her reach, and his fingers tickled her ankles where they rested.
"You would," she said. "Wouldn't you?"
Sephiran turned his eyes down, curling the fingers of his other hand under her knee, and she watched his gaze drift to the hem of her skirt, scrunched up around her thighs, and perhaps he meant to pull it down to cover her legs. "What can I say to that logic?" His eyes moved up to her face. "If I deny it, I might just be lying."
Sanaki sat up straight, bracing with both arms. "It's your job to support me, so of course--"
"Your handling of that embezzlement charge was abysmal."
"We discussed--" She paused, her teeth snapped shut. He tilted his head, as if to say, well?, and Sanaki rolled her eyes and turned her face away. It shows she remembered him saying that morning, his finger gentle on the skin beneath her eye. You'll have to cover it up. Perhaps Valtome wouldn't care or read into her lack of sleep - or he might interpret it correctly and wonder why she was so invested in the trial of one of her opponents. "Well then."
"You should go to bed," he said, lifting her legs from his lap. "The first day is always longest. I want you to be rested tomorrow."
How could she rest? This was the moment they'd been waiting for since Rafiel's arrival. She wanted it to begin immediately so they could get it over with, see to the arrests and the investigations-- Sanaki was tired of waiting. She was tired of the senate. If they waited one more minute, Lekain would find some way to weasel out of the charges. He always did.
The trial couldn't happen quickly enough.
*
Morning brought more rain. He was there to comb her hair straight after her bath, roll it back and plait it, and pin her headdress on. The thing looked beautiful on its stand, like a red silk crescent stitched with gold; it had to be pinned tightly so it wouldn't slip, and despite the precaution Sanaki would feel it move just a little every time she tilted her head. It was a stupid design, like a crown but without the benefit of knowing one wore a kingdom's worth of riches on one's head, and if they were accusing anybody but high councilmen, today, she would have left it in its box.
Begnion liked tradition. Senators were especially fond of it. And yet, they probably wouldn't appreciate her effort once they were on their knees to await her judgment.
Put your doubts to rest, Sephiran told her when he left to help Rafiel prepare. You embody Ashera's will in more ways than you realize.
Sanaki wanted to believe. The goddess would be angered by the treatment of laguz in her nation, in Daein, and even Crimea, where tolerance only reached as far as the king might ride on any given day. The fault lines between the races hadn't existed in the goddess's time the way they did now. Her servants had not killed each other in her name, because the last time beorc and laguz sought to destroy each other they were defeated by the flood, and when Ashera went to sleep, it was said, there were still many alive who remembered the long days when water covered everything but the mountaintops and the sanctuary of Serenes.
Rafiel told her that. He remembered the flood, but not the names of the places that angered the goddess with their wars. It could have been anywhere, he said, but it wasn't on Tellius - perhaps it was far on the other side of the ocean to the west, or across the land bridge that used to stretch to the south, where Phoenecis and Kilvas now stood. It wasn't until much later, of course, that the inequalities piled upon each other and the prejudices took root, so slowly nobody realized the extent of the problem until too late. I was just a child, but I remember when the senate passed the first laws limiting our rights in Begnion. How old? By our reckoning, close to your age now.
That long ago. She had as her councilors two herons, and even Kilvas, whose long years made him a more experienced ruler than she; three men who outlived the longest-lived of senators as a matter of natural course, whose wisdom could not be matched -- and they were dismissed. Why, for their wings? Or was it the point to their ears, or perhaps their ability to fly?
She didn't understand why it happened that way when the laws could have been prevented or overturned before they gained momentum. Where was Goldoa and its protests when laguz were denied the right to own property? What were her ancestors doing? Didn't they realize they were betraying their own heritage? Sephiran said her grandmother knew, and that meant they all did. They knew.
The sun was well above the rooftops when Sanaki left her rooms with Sigrun, Tanith and Marcia following behind. It peeked through a gap in the clouds, and the walkways glistened, slick with rain. Droplets gathered on leaves and branches, and the tap of their footsteps was accompanied with the steady drip of water from the gutters and stone overhangs. Marcia carried her train to keep it dry, but the hem of Sanaki's dress collected the moisture as she walked and clung to her ankles.
She paused at the rail to overlook the stretch of garden separating the palace from the business wing of the cathedral. The trees were leafing out, pale green and yellow creeping over their branches, and some frothed with tiny white blossoms that fluttered in the slightest drift of air and sent petals drifting down to the grass. She told Marcia to let the train down - her feet were getting wet anyway, the silk was damp, it made no difference - and listened to a voice beyond the juniper bushes, where the path down below curved and disappeared into a circle of maples.
That senator is sniffing after you like a starving dog the voice was saying, the words accented. If he comes back again--
Tell him I'm washing my hair.
Sanaki knew that voice. And where the path left the tree cover, she saw the shock of blue hair and the polished steel ring atop the hilt of the blade strapped to his back. Sigrun whispered at her shoulder, Lord Sephiran is coming, but she couldn't look away. Ike, the stern, silent protector, described how he would introduce the nameless senator to his sword as they rounded the bend and came into sight, and Soren punched his arm, saying that's disgusting, that's vulgar, you'll get us in trouble-- but he was laughing.
How novel. She didn't know he was capable of a real laugh.
A murmured Your Majesty and a hand at her elbow drew her attention away. She looked up at Sephiran, but he was watching the show as well, and in the shadow of the corridor behind him were Kilvas and Prince Rafiel, who was exchanging words with Sigrun. The heron smiled at Sanaki when he caught her gaze, but his hands were folded together tightly, and Sanaki felt the urge to apologize. He must not like these proceedings; the negativity, the hostility, and there was the attention it drew to him as well. Especially the attention of the senators, she thought.
"Is the session going to begin soon?" Daein's prince called from below.
Sanaki turned back to him, but it was Sephiran who answered. "In an hour's time. The doors will lock at ten forty."
The prince bowed and disappeared into the corridor below with his companion, this time proceeding with more decorum. She wrapped her hand around Sephiran's arm and let herself be led the remaining distance to her office with the others filing behind. Rafiel and Kilvas whispered, their heads tilted together when she looked back, but the details of their conversation were not quite audible, and Sanaki tried not to listen. The sunlight seemed to slant into the garden at a strange angle, and when they ascended the stairs to the fourth floor the entire area was silent and empty aside from her party and the marble carving of Ashera on the wall facing her office door.
Tanas and Hetzel were waiting for her arrival, and Zelgius bowed at her entrance, the leather straps of his armor creaking. Sanaki waved the formality away before the other two were fully turned from the window. Hetzel's shoulders were hunched, curved, as if he carried his weight in bricks upon his back. "I assume, Duke Tanas, your presence here means you've decided to support Hetzel's claims with your own confession," Sanaki said when she heard the door close.
"Indeed." Oliver's thick fingers twisted together, and his gaze strayed behind her. "Lord Sephiran has made a compelling offer."
Sanaki raised an eyebrow and glanced over her shoulder. Her minister's lips thinned. Rafiel murmured something in the old tongue, and Sephiran actually rolled his eyes. "I see." She turned back to the duke and her prisoner. Hetzel remained by the window, Zelgius with him, which was just as well; she wasn't positive she wanted to speak with him at all, perhaps not ever again. She left the others and walked around her desk to sit down. "Once you take this step there is no turning back. If you aren't ready to face them, surrender yourself now."
Oliver's mouth worked. "We never saw--" He paused, looking from her to Sephiran, or perhaps at Rafiel, and then he approached her desk. "Our bids were to view what they claimed was a Serenes noble," he said softly. "To view and perhaps buy, true, but-- but anybody experienced in the trade would know the futility of caging a heron. Hetzel was aware, and he would have set the prince free--"
"What he would have done does not matter, Duke Tanas." Sanaki didn't bother to lower her voice. They could hear, all of them - Sephiran and Rafiel at the center of the room, Kilvas from the other side, where he leaned against the door frame. "By participating in the auction, even to view, you are guilty of breaking the law. In return for your witness I will lessen your sentence, and we will keep your participation in bringing the case to court in mind as well. Nothing more. Is it worth it?"
"Yes." Oliver twisted his rings one by one, shifting, and he turned his head slightly as if he wanted to look back, but he resisted. "Your judgment is fair, empress, I only wanted to-- clarify."
You should've seen him salivate at Rafiel's entrance, Kilvas had said, after the third session. I guarantee you he'll cave - I give it two days. He'll need time to cut ties with Lekain's estate. Sanaki thought it a joke, but then Sephiran came to her three days ago with Oliver's offer to defect in return for amnesty. I want you to let him burn with the others, Sephiran said, lips turned down, but we need whatever support we can find - even Tanas.
Sanaki found the paperwork in a folder in her drawer, and opened it to the last page. "Your signature and seal, then." She pushed the writing tray with pen and ink across the desk. Oliver bent and reached for the pen slowly, but to his credit he didn't hesitate as she thought he would. She leaned to the side. "Kilvas."
She heard his wings snap and fold, and he appeared from behind Duke Tanas. "My people and Sephiran's are in place," Kilvas said, propping his hip at the corner of her desk.
The Duke's eyes slid in his direction. "May I ask--"
"No," Sanaki said, and his mouth snapped shut. She told him to wait by the window with Hetzel when he stamped the form with his seal, and after a moment of hand-wringing Oliver did as he was told. Sephiran left Rafiel seated on a stool and joined Kilvas at her desk. "Give the signal," she said softly, and pulled the form over to her side of the desk. The ink still gleamed, wet, and Oliver's hand, usually so neat and sweepingly beautiful - the only thing she'd ever liked about him - wavered in places.
He should be nervous. He should fear for his life, or at least for his fortune and property, as that was the only value Tanas had without the context of the trial to save him. Hetzel's property was to be formally seized at the beginning of the next month and added to the imperial holdings until a replacement could be found for his position, but Oliver-- she knew he was involved in unsavory activity. He'd cut ties with Lekain - which meant they'd existed in the first place, and that alone deserved punishment. What would they find when they searched his manor? Contraband, bribes-- or slaves?
"You're positive the senators are unaware?" she asked, and Kilvas nodded.
"Your guard is rounding the others up as we speak," Sephiran said. "They won't have time to hide anything. Lekain especially should be at a disadvantage."
"Good." Sanaki pulled a folder from the top drawer and slid Tanas's contract in. Her fingers trembled, and she hid her hands under the desk, clasped tightly in her lap. The plan was running so smoothly it might break to pieces in her hands; she told herself that was paranoia speaking, but she saw the same tension in Sephiran when she looked up to meet his unwavering stare. "Begin the search. Arrest anybody who tries to impede the process. Kilvas, have any messengers they send seized - try not to kill them unless absolutely necessary."
Sephiran laid his staff on her desk and pulled an envelope from a pocket in the lining of his coat. "This warrant should absolve you of such if it comes to that, but interrogating them might prove useful later."
Kilvas took it and slid his nail over the fold to open the envelope. "I'll do my best," he said, eyes skimming the paper, "but by the time they're sending messengers, word will be out. Gaddos men are trained to kill laguz. We might not have a choice."
"What about Culbert? Numida?" Sanaki frowned when he shrugged. Did that mean yes, the others had trained their militia in similar skill, or that he didn't know? "Get on with it, then. Sigrun will protect Rafiel until you return."
Kilvas folded the warrant and tucked it into his coat. "Your wish is my command, Empress."
Of course it was. His life depended on it after all; it was a shame she couldn't be sure of his loyalty otherwise. If he happened to find his blood contract while searching Lekain's estate--
Sanaki watched him leave and tried to believe this would be as easy as he made it sound.
............................................................
I was going to cut down the first scene, but that became too much effort. Sorry~ Actually, especially toward the end I think my unwillingness to write is clear in the quality. It's a sad state of affairs, especially when I really want to go farther and write the next chapters, but just can't scrape up the motivation to do so.
It's just as well, because I have some major projects coming up. Those should clear my head.
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no subject
Date: 2008-10-24 10:39 pm (UTC)The first scene: I love how cute they can be together sometimes, when he picks her up and the sort-of pillow fight.
The second scene: OLIVER! <3 I love that little detail about his handwriting. Oliver would have pretty handwriting. And the Ike and Soren scene made me giggle, and I'm not sure whether to hope Naesala finds his Blood Contract or to hope that he doesn't.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 04:12 am (UTC)Ike and Soren will have to be in the next interlude installment. They deserve some personal attention, because right now all we get is Sanaki loathing their existence.
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Date: 2008-10-25 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 12:20 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 04:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-10-25 04:39 am (UTC)