Post by PeroxidePirate on Dec 4, 2011 4:19:04 GMT 10
To: Gear
Message: Happy ficmas! This was a delight to write, and I hope it's as much fun for you to read. <3
From: Nicki
Title: Hello, Old Friend
Rating: PG
Wishlist Item: #4, Daja femslash
Summary: Three years after their last meeting, Daja isn't sure what to make of Rizu showing up in Summersea.
When Sandry met the wife of the new Namornese ambassador, she nearly laughed. She didn't think her adopted siblings – especially Daja – would find it nearly as funny.
“Rizuka fa Dalach,” she said, stepping forward with her hands extended. “Or is it now-”
“Fa Pennun. It is.”
“Well.” Sandry clasped hands with Rizu and smiled politely. “Congratulations to you both.”
The dinner to officially welcome Ambassador Kelby and his lady was held two days later. Daja tried not to stare at her former lover, but something about Briar's smirk and Tris's frown made her think the attempt wasn't entirely successful. Rizu was as beautiful and vibrant as ever, seated in a place of honor on the duke's right and keeping up a steady conversation with those around her. The ambassador – Rizu's husband – sat to Sandry's right, at the opposite end of the table, and spent his time flirting and cooing at her. Not very mannerly, Daja thought. I can't imagine why she married him.
After dinner, the group of thirty or so guests adjourned to the small ballroom for dancing. Daja and Tris stood to one side and watched the nobles whirl past, alternating Namornese and Emelanese dances. After half an hour, Tris was called away to converse with a scholarly friend, and Daja was left alone. She was plotting her exit when Rizu approached.
“Care to dance?”
Daja barked a laugh. “Thanks, no. I'm not exactly cut out for dancing.”
“Nonsense. I have it on very good authority that you know the man's part in several Namornese dances quite well.”
Daja looked at her blankly. “Where could you have heard that?”
Rizu smiled sweetly. “A Lady Jorality fa Morven, recently arrived at court, informs me you were her partner for dancing practice during a winter some years back.”
That surprised another laugh from Daja. “Jory? A lady?”
“Oh, yes. Mind, she spends as much time in the kitchens as in the parlors, but her husband's brother is a favorite of Her Imperial Majesty, and so they are often present at the larger events.” Rizu took Daja's arm. “Now. Dancing.”
“That was ages ago,” Daja protested, but they were already moving onto the dance floor. To her surprise, she did remember most of the steps. At any rate, though Rizu seemed to follow Daja's lead, she was actually the one guiding them through the swoops and circling of the dance.
After a couple of turns around the floor, Daja said, “You've taken up dancing. You married an ambassador. What else has changed?”
Rizu laughed lightly. “Not much, honestly.”
Daja raised an eyebrow. “Honestly? Forgive me, but you're here as the representative of a not-entirely-friendly foreign power.”
“But you and I can still be friendly. Can't we?” Rizu leaned closer as she spoke, looking up through fluttering dark lashes in a way that brought to mind the time they had shared in Namorn, three years before.
“You tell me,” Daja replied. “What will your husband think of you renewing old... friendships?”
“Is that what worries you? Look at him.” Rizu turned them until the ambassador was in Daja's view. He was dancing very close to a young noblewoman. “He needed a wife for political reasons – someone who wouldn't mind his friendly nature. And I was happy for any opportunity to get away from the capital for a time.”
“And there's no love there?” Daja asked, not sure which answer she least wanted to hear.
Rizu shrugged. “Not particularly. Don't look like that, Daja. I'm a noble. Political marriages are what we do.”
“But you...” Daja began. She shook her head. “I didn't think you would,” she finished.
Rizu's face softened. “Then you do care about me, still.”
“I don't know.” The song came to an end, and Daja took the lead for the first time, guiding her dance partner back to the edge of the floor. She stepped away from Rizu and bowed. “It's been a pleasure,” she said politely. “I won't take up any more of your time. I'm sure there must be many others waiting to dance with you.”
Sandry was in the linen room the following afternoon when a maid showed Lady Rizuka in.
“Hello. I wondered if you would find your way here.”
“My lady.” Rizu curtsied.
“What can I do for you?” Sandry smiled. “Are you missing your work already?”
“A little,” Rizu admitted. “But mostly, I wanted to ask you...” Her voice trailed off.
Sandry set down the blanket she had been checking. “Yes?”
“How long was she angry at me? Daja, I mean.”
“Oh.” Sandry went to a bench placed at the back of the room, before a sunny window, and sat, patting the cushion beside her. She waited for her guest to join her before she continued. “She'd never been in love before, did you know that? She had tried – with boys – and didn't see what all the fuss was about. Being with you changed that. Changed the way she sees herself.”
Rizu studied her hands, which were now folded in her lap. “I didn't quite realize all of that.”
Sandry clasped her shoulder quickly, then let go. “I'm not sure she was angry. Not at you. But she was hurt, a little, and she was more disappointed than anything.”
“Do you think I can make it up to her?”
Sandry thought about that for a moment. “I don't know,” she said at last. “But I think it's very sweet that you want to try.”
Daja was in her forge, at work on a hammered pewter candelabra, when someone knocked firmly on the door frame. She turned to see a woman of medium height, dressed in a plain brown summer dress and a sheer, lightweight veil of the kind ladies sometimes wore to keep the dust and sun off their faces.
“Is the smith in?” she asked, in a voice Daja recognized instantly.
“Rizu?”
The woman laughed as she unhooked her veil. “I wondered if you'd know me.”
“I very nearly didn't. I've only seen you in court clothes.”
“And out of them,” Rizu reminded her. “I've never seen where you do your work. I thought it was time I did.”
Daja spread her hands, the gesture encompassing forge, furnace, and the storeroom beyond. “Well.”
“I don't know much about metalworking, but the place looks exceptionally well cared for.” She smiled. “But then, I'd expect nothing less from Daja Kisubo, great mage and master blacksmith.”
“You overstate my talents.” Daja crossed her arms over her scarred leather apron. “Why did you come here, Rizu?”
“I grew bored with the Namornese court. The empress was vexed with me. And-” she met Daja's eyes. “I missed you.”
Daja didn't move, hardly dared to breathe, as Rizu came closer. “That was three years ago,” she said, when Rizu was just an arm's length away.
“Yes. And if I miss you still – doesn't that mean something?”
Daja uncrossed her arms, slowly, and took Rizu's hands in hers. “I suppose it does,” she conceded. “And... I suppose I've missed you, too.”
Rizu's face lit with a smile. She wrapped her arms around Daja, heedless of her soot-covered apron, and pressed her face into Daja's shoulder.
Daja embraced her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “You know,” she said, “when I asked why you came here – I meant, 'Why did you come to my forge?'”
“Oh?”
“I thought you might have some jewelry that needs mending. Maybe a chipped knife that needs honing.”
“Now you're teasing.”
“A little,” Daja agreed. “But really. Why did you come here?”
“I missed you,” Rizu repeated, lifting her face to look at Daja. “And, I know what it's like when you walk in my world. I wanted to see how it is if I walk in yours.”
“Well, you get soot on your face, if you don't wait for me to clean up from the forge.” Daja brushed Rizu's smudged cheek with a thumb. “But I have a soap that takes it off. And there's bread and soup for mid-day.”
“Sounds delightful,” Rizu answered happily.
Daja grinned, and led her into the house.
Message: Happy ficmas! This was a delight to write, and I hope it's as much fun for you to read. <3
From: Nicki
Title: Hello, Old Friend
Rating: PG
Wishlist Item: #4, Daja femslash
Summary: Three years after their last meeting, Daja isn't sure what to make of Rizu showing up in Summersea.
When Sandry met the wife of the new Namornese ambassador, she nearly laughed. She didn't think her adopted siblings – especially Daja – would find it nearly as funny.
“Rizuka fa Dalach,” she said, stepping forward with her hands extended. “Or is it now-”
“Fa Pennun. It is.”
“Well.” Sandry clasped hands with Rizu and smiled politely. “Congratulations to you both.”
The dinner to officially welcome Ambassador Kelby and his lady was held two days later. Daja tried not to stare at her former lover, but something about Briar's smirk and Tris's frown made her think the attempt wasn't entirely successful. Rizu was as beautiful and vibrant as ever, seated in a place of honor on the duke's right and keeping up a steady conversation with those around her. The ambassador – Rizu's husband – sat to Sandry's right, at the opposite end of the table, and spent his time flirting and cooing at her. Not very mannerly, Daja thought. I can't imagine why she married him.
After dinner, the group of thirty or so guests adjourned to the small ballroom for dancing. Daja and Tris stood to one side and watched the nobles whirl past, alternating Namornese and Emelanese dances. After half an hour, Tris was called away to converse with a scholarly friend, and Daja was left alone. She was plotting her exit when Rizu approached.
“Care to dance?”
Daja barked a laugh. “Thanks, no. I'm not exactly cut out for dancing.”
“Nonsense. I have it on very good authority that you know the man's part in several Namornese dances quite well.”
Daja looked at her blankly. “Where could you have heard that?”
Rizu smiled sweetly. “A Lady Jorality fa Morven, recently arrived at court, informs me you were her partner for dancing practice during a winter some years back.”
That surprised another laugh from Daja. “Jory? A lady?”
“Oh, yes. Mind, she spends as much time in the kitchens as in the parlors, but her husband's brother is a favorite of Her Imperial Majesty, and so they are often present at the larger events.” Rizu took Daja's arm. “Now. Dancing.”
“That was ages ago,” Daja protested, but they were already moving onto the dance floor. To her surprise, she did remember most of the steps. At any rate, though Rizu seemed to follow Daja's lead, she was actually the one guiding them through the swoops and circling of the dance.
After a couple of turns around the floor, Daja said, “You've taken up dancing. You married an ambassador. What else has changed?”
Rizu laughed lightly. “Not much, honestly.”
Daja raised an eyebrow. “Honestly? Forgive me, but you're here as the representative of a not-entirely-friendly foreign power.”
“But you and I can still be friendly. Can't we?” Rizu leaned closer as she spoke, looking up through fluttering dark lashes in a way that brought to mind the time they had shared in Namorn, three years before.
“You tell me,” Daja replied. “What will your husband think of you renewing old... friendships?”
“Is that what worries you? Look at him.” Rizu turned them until the ambassador was in Daja's view. He was dancing very close to a young noblewoman. “He needed a wife for political reasons – someone who wouldn't mind his friendly nature. And I was happy for any opportunity to get away from the capital for a time.”
“And there's no love there?” Daja asked, not sure which answer she least wanted to hear.
Rizu shrugged. “Not particularly. Don't look like that, Daja. I'm a noble. Political marriages are what we do.”
“But you...” Daja began. She shook her head. “I didn't think you would,” she finished.
Rizu's face softened. “Then you do care about me, still.”
“I don't know.” The song came to an end, and Daja took the lead for the first time, guiding her dance partner back to the edge of the floor. She stepped away from Rizu and bowed. “It's been a pleasure,” she said politely. “I won't take up any more of your time. I'm sure there must be many others waiting to dance with you.”
Sandry was in the linen room the following afternoon when a maid showed Lady Rizuka in.
“Hello. I wondered if you would find your way here.”
“My lady.” Rizu curtsied.
“What can I do for you?” Sandry smiled. “Are you missing your work already?”
“A little,” Rizu admitted. “But mostly, I wanted to ask you...” Her voice trailed off.
Sandry set down the blanket she had been checking. “Yes?”
“How long was she angry at me? Daja, I mean.”
“Oh.” Sandry went to a bench placed at the back of the room, before a sunny window, and sat, patting the cushion beside her. She waited for her guest to join her before she continued. “She'd never been in love before, did you know that? She had tried – with boys – and didn't see what all the fuss was about. Being with you changed that. Changed the way she sees herself.”
Rizu studied her hands, which were now folded in her lap. “I didn't quite realize all of that.”
Sandry clasped her shoulder quickly, then let go. “I'm not sure she was angry. Not at you. But she was hurt, a little, and she was more disappointed than anything.”
“Do you think I can make it up to her?”
Sandry thought about that for a moment. “I don't know,” she said at last. “But I think it's very sweet that you want to try.”
Daja was in her forge, at work on a hammered pewter candelabra, when someone knocked firmly on the door frame. She turned to see a woman of medium height, dressed in a plain brown summer dress and a sheer, lightweight veil of the kind ladies sometimes wore to keep the dust and sun off their faces.
“Is the smith in?” she asked, in a voice Daja recognized instantly.
“Rizu?”
The woman laughed as she unhooked her veil. “I wondered if you'd know me.”
“I very nearly didn't. I've only seen you in court clothes.”
“And out of them,” Rizu reminded her. “I've never seen where you do your work. I thought it was time I did.”
Daja spread her hands, the gesture encompassing forge, furnace, and the storeroom beyond. “Well.”
“I don't know much about metalworking, but the place looks exceptionally well cared for.” She smiled. “But then, I'd expect nothing less from Daja Kisubo, great mage and master blacksmith.”
“You overstate my talents.” Daja crossed her arms over her scarred leather apron. “Why did you come here, Rizu?”
“I grew bored with the Namornese court. The empress was vexed with me. And-” she met Daja's eyes. “I missed you.”
Daja didn't move, hardly dared to breathe, as Rizu came closer. “That was three years ago,” she said, when Rizu was just an arm's length away.
“Yes. And if I miss you still – doesn't that mean something?”
Daja uncrossed her arms, slowly, and took Rizu's hands in hers. “I suppose it does,” she conceded. “And... I suppose I've missed you, too.”
Rizu's face lit with a smile. She wrapped her arms around Daja, heedless of her soot-covered apron, and pressed her face into Daja's shoulder.
Daja embraced her, planting a kiss on the top of her head. “You know,” she said, “when I asked why you came here – I meant, 'Why did you come to my forge?'”
“Oh?”
“I thought you might have some jewelry that needs mending. Maybe a chipped knife that needs honing.”
“Now you're teasing.”
“A little,” Daja agreed. “But really. Why did you come here?”
“I missed you,” Rizu repeated, lifting her face to look at Daja. “And, I know what it's like when you walk in my world. I wanted to see how it is if I walk in yours.”
“Well, you get soot on your face, if you don't wait for me to clean up from the forge.” Daja brushed Rizu's smudged cheek with a thumb. “But I have a soap that takes it off. And there's bread and soup for mid-day.”
“Sounds delightful,” Rizu answered happily.
Daja grinned, and led her into the house.