Post by luinae on Mar 12, 2011 12:57:55 GMT 10
Title: Different
Rating: PG
Word Count: 403
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Thayet helps Zahir to see that differences aren't such a bad thing.
“Your majesty!” Zahir cries out, bursting into the tent that the King and Queen are sharing while they stay in the desert. To his dismay, he finds not Jon, but Thayet.
“Zahir,” she says, turning around, her voice low. “Were you looking for his majesty?”
Zahir bows deeply, “yes, your majesty. I can leave.”
Thayet just waves him away. “No, he’ll be back in a moment. Please sit down.”
Zahir sits on one of the mats on the tent floor, watching Queen Thayet pin up her ink black hair. When it’s all pinned up, she puts a light pink veil over her hair and face and begins to pin that as well.
“Your majesty?” Zahir ventures.
“Yes?”
“Why are you wearing a veil? You aren’t Bazhir, and I know you don’t agree with the idea that Bazhir women should have to cover themselves. It’s not a law, so you don’t have to wear a veil,” Zahir says all in one breath.
The queen sits beside him. “Zahir, if you came to visit my people – a K’mir tribe – and they expected you to let the women hunt and the men heal, because that’s how K’mir tribes are organized, would you do so?”
Zahir frowned, thinking that the queen was trying to distract him from his question. “Of course, your majesty,” he says. “It’s not my place to tell the K’mir how to live their lives.”
“And it’s not my place to tell the Bazhir what customs they can and cannot keep. They are their own people,” Thayet says. “Just because they are not exactly like me does not mean they are below me.” She straightens the veil so all Zahir can see are her hazel eyes. “I wear this veil not because I think I need to be covered, but to show the Bazhir that I respect their culture.”
“Oh,” Zahir says. “Have you told the king yet? He seems to think differently.”
“Perhaps you should.”
“But I’m not his equal, I’m his vassal; his servant.”
“Zahir ibn Alhaz, you are many things. But you are not a servant,” Thayet tells him sternly as he holds the tent flap open for her. “Besides, his majesty trusts you.”
“Why would he do that, ma’am?” Zahir asked.
“Why wouldn’t he?” countered the queen. “You’ve given him no reason to suggest that he can’t trust you.”
“Oh,” Zahir says again. “Thank you, your majesty.” He bows deeply.
Thayet watches him go, straightening her veil. "I wish he knew how much Jon cared for him," she told herself.
QC by: greenie
Rating: PG
Word Count: 403
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Thayet helps Zahir to see that differences aren't such a bad thing.
“Your majesty!” Zahir cries out, bursting into the tent that the King and Queen are sharing while they stay in the desert. To his dismay, he finds not Jon, but Thayet.
“Zahir,” she says, turning around, her voice low. “Were you looking for his majesty?”
Zahir bows deeply, “yes, your majesty. I can leave.”
Thayet just waves him away. “No, he’ll be back in a moment. Please sit down.”
Zahir sits on one of the mats on the tent floor, watching Queen Thayet pin up her ink black hair. When it’s all pinned up, she puts a light pink veil over her hair and face and begins to pin that as well.
“Your majesty?” Zahir ventures.
“Yes?”
“Why are you wearing a veil? You aren’t Bazhir, and I know you don’t agree with the idea that Bazhir women should have to cover themselves. It’s not a law, so you don’t have to wear a veil,” Zahir says all in one breath.
The queen sits beside him. “Zahir, if you came to visit my people – a K’mir tribe – and they expected you to let the women hunt and the men heal, because that’s how K’mir tribes are organized, would you do so?”
Zahir frowned, thinking that the queen was trying to distract him from his question. “Of course, your majesty,” he says. “It’s not my place to tell the K’mir how to live their lives.”
“And it’s not my place to tell the Bazhir what customs they can and cannot keep. They are their own people,” Thayet says. “Just because they are not exactly like me does not mean they are below me.” She straightens the veil so all Zahir can see are her hazel eyes. “I wear this veil not because I think I need to be covered, but to show the Bazhir that I respect their culture.”
“Oh,” Zahir says. “Have you told the king yet? He seems to think differently.”
“Perhaps you should.”
“But I’m not his equal, I’m his vassal; his servant.”
“Zahir ibn Alhaz, you are many things. But you are not a servant,” Thayet tells him sternly as he holds the tent flap open for her. “Besides, his majesty trusts you.”
“Why would he do that, ma’am?” Zahir asked.
“Why wouldn’t he?” countered the queen. “You’ve given him no reason to suggest that he can’t trust you.”
“Oh,” Zahir says again. “Thank you, your majesty.” He bows deeply.
Thayet watches him go, straightening her veil. "I wish he knew how much Jon cared for him," she told herself.
QC by: greenie