Post by Moony on May 13, 2012 13:16:10 GMT 10
Series: New and Old (Kel/Roald)
Title: Reasons
Rating: PG
Event: 1500 Word Dash
Words: 1500
Summary: When Shinko passes, Kel is chosen by both the Yamani and Tortallian delegations to rebind the contract.
This is a piece that has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time. Decathlon is the perfect set up for what I saw it as: a series of views into their lives as they grow together.
This is the first piece, and I suggest reading it first, but I suppose that is not needed.
Warning: Character Death
No one was expecting it. No one saw it coming. Shinko was everything a young Queen-to-be was expected: kind, willful, mothering, open. And so in love with her country, her child and, most importantly, her king. So when she died quickly of a fever, the country was shocked. It was a common cold, the healer said, made worse by the infection of a wound she had sustained while riding with the Ladies that fall. The gash had healed quickly but, in a move applauded at the time, she had force the healer to fix the other, more serious wounds first. It had been her downfall, as infection from the ever present mud of a campaign weakened her apparently beyond repair. It was quick though. That was the only blessing received.
Roald was broken. He stayed locked in his rooms save when he was pulled away by his year mates and friends. Even then, though, he had a glaze over his eyes that seemed to never leave. A look that part of him had left for other realms. Try as they might, though, he only came out of this slowly, shaking each step without his beloved by his side. The only thing that kept him sane was his daughter; a fierce, inquisitive young girl who looked exactly like her mother and was put back when her masters were confused at her switch between Yamani and the Eastern tongue. Though she asked for her mother, she did not fully understand the implications. It was only when she saw the sadness in her father’s eyes that she knew something had changed. Even when he hid behind a mask, she could see the hurt in his eyes.
Liano, only four, was cried for by her country. Still so much a babe, now without a mother and with a broken father and, seemingly, no homeland, she was adrift, it was thought. But she did not show any of this outwardly. Though she cried herself to sleep at night, she had somehow noticed that her tears only made her father’s worse. She therefore adapted the emotionless mask the Yamani Court members had taught her with the gayety of the Tortallan court. Instead of showing no emotion, she forced a smile. Later on, it would be helpful, but only after she had learned the difference between real and fake happiness.
However the biggest confusion was what to do with the now widowed heir. The treaty, it was seen, was weaker than assumed. Piers and Ilane were rushed to the Islands and sent messages back nightly through mage mirror on the progress. The Emperor would not give another princess, even if he had one. The Tortallan court would not accept a Yamani noble woman, as she was already too different and therefore could not be so common as well. Not for their king, who deserved so much more than an emotionless Lady. The Emperor trusted the Tortallan court, but not without one of his own on the throne, as he had already lost so much with the passing of Shinko.
It was a stalemate: a dangerous, deadly game with both courts soon to be thrown out of balance. But then one man, a lesser priest in the Yamani court reminded the Emperor of Illane’s bravery and her daughter’s prowess. The woman who saved the most precious of all the courts possessions. Of the power and nature that the youngest child had shown. That the little slip of a girl that was so very Yamani had gone onto be a Tortallan lady and knight.
Piers baulked at the proposal. The Prince stammered about technicality. Kel stepped forward and agreed. She was not a diplomat or even much of a courtier, but she could see that only a Yamani allied Tortallan noble woman would do. And those were hard to come by.
Her friends tried to talk her out of it. They loved her, they loved him, but it was not the life for her. What about the battle field? What about her men? The people of New Hope? She would no longer be a commander, but a queen. She said little, other than that a queen was no more than a commander with a crown and a throne.
Neal spoke the loudest. He loved her like a sister, like a dear friend. He was unwilling to let her make such a sacrifice for her country. “It will be the most polite marriage the world has ever seen. A ‘sleep well, your Highness’ each night.” Yuki was the one to finally talk him down. She was the only one in the court that didn't seem surprised and whole heartedly supported Kel’s decision.
In private, though, she was the only one Kel spoke with frankly. About her fears; her worries about the fact that she was not ready to give up her place as a knight. How inside, despite the clean façade, her stomach turned each time they locked eyes. Of course she loved Roald. As a brother, a friend, a fellow knight. Never as a man or a lover or a husband. Yuki would hand her a cup of tea and tell her that she was lucky, that this was an opportunity to save the lower classes, that there were worst fates than to marry your friend. But there was a sadness that even her mask could not hide: that her closest friend would lose her innocence and her chance of love in a single day.
A contract was signed, detailing both parties’ compliance and responsibilities. For once in her life, Kel allowed herself to be as unfeeling as the “lump” that she had been described as. She signed her name in Yamani characters and smiled when she was told to and followed instructions. If that was to be here life, she should start practicing now.
The wedding was set for the spring. Rushed, for a royal affair, but still opulent and over the top. Lalasa made more dresses than her mistress could count a whole rainbow of lavishly expensive silk, lace, velvet and jewels. Each inch embroidered with signs for prosperity, happiness, and (much to Kel’s chagrin) fertility. When the day came, Lalasa hovered about until the very last minute, cutting threads and shifting folds, muttering age old pieces of wisdom that Kel had heard a thousand times.
When Kel walked down the aisle of people, it was not as she had fantasized as a small child. The smiles on the faces she passed were fake, poorly covering pity. Only the crowd of Yamani delegates remained impassive. She looked a bride, at least, wearing layers of silk, velvet and lace in a series of gowns, skirts and surcoats that were a surprisingly good mix of Yamani and Tortallan styles. The bright blue of the gown was nothing other than Conte perfect, folding over itself at the neckline and tied with a wide band of blue velvet to resemble a kimono. The sir coats of gauze and lace, however, were a stark white that she couldn’t help but remember that white was common in the Island’s morning.
As she sat in a small, private Yamani tea ceremony opposite her new husband, the same imagery struck again. He wore Mindelan cream and blue, an obi of grey as a nod to her title. His look was perfectly blank, enough to make even the old mistress in the Emperor’s palace happy. The entire affair was awkward and without any joy. Most of the attendants were from the Isles or direct family members and friends, not the extended court. Typically, there would be the thrum of excitement and hope underneath the blank faces, but instead there was little emotion. Maybe a little sad or, once again, hiding pity.
Only one person, a distant Aunt on Roald’s side, ignored custom and showed her feelings. She sat in the back in purple and red, bawling into a square of silk loud enough that those passing the garden worried. When Kel caught Roald’s (her husband’s, she reminded herself) eye as she poured him a cup of tea, she couldn’t help but notice the small light of a smile. He noticed the same oddity of the situation as she. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could be more than favorable.
The first time they appeared as a couple was at the ball held that very night in their honor. Kel wore crinkled red silk and bronze gauze until early in the morning, when she was instructed to change into more comfortable kimonos of the same color. As she descended the Grand Stair for the first time as an heir, her stomach dropped. She was not “radiant” or “beautiful” or “a goddess”, independent of what people might say. She was Kel .Strong, independent Kel with her head held high and her scared hands clutching onto Roald’s as a life line. She was not a born to be a queen, but, by the Goddess, she would become one.
Title: Reasons
Rating: PG
Event: 1500 Word Dash
Words: 1500
Summary: When Shinko passes, Kel is chosen by both the Yamani and Tortallian delegations to rebind the contract.
This is a piece that has been bouncing around in my head for quite some time. Decathlon is the perfect set up for what I saw it as: a series of views into their lives as they grow together.
This is the first piece, and I suggest reading it first, but I suppose that is not needed.
Warning: Character Death
No one was expecting it. No one saw it coming. Shinko was everything a young Queen-to-be was expected: kind, willful, mothering, open. And so in love with her country, her child and, most importantly, her king. So when she died quickly of a fever, the country was shocked. It was a common cold, the healer said, made worse by the infection of a wound she had sustained while riding with the Ladies that fall. The gash had healed quickly but, in a move applauded at the time, she had force the healer to fix the other, more serious wounds first. It had been her downfall, as infection from the ever present mud of a campaign weakened her apparently beyond repair. It was quick though. That was the only blessing received.
Roald was broken. He stayed locked in his rooms save when he was pulled away by his year mates and friends. Even then, though, he had a glaze over his eyes that seemed to never leave. A look that part of him had left for other realms. Try as they might, though, he only came out of this slowly, shaking each step without his beloved by his side. The only thing that kept him sane was his daughter; a fierce, inquisitive young girl who looked exactly like her mother and was put back when her masters were confused at her switch between Yamani and the Eastern tongue. Though she asked for her mother, she did not fully understand the implications. It was only when she saw the sadness in her father’s eyes that she knew something had changed. Even when he hid behind a mask, she could see the hurt in his eyes.
Liano, only four, was cried for by her country. Still so much a babe, now without a mother and with a broken father and, seemingly, no homeland, she was adrift, it was thought. But she did not show any of this outwardly. Though she cried herself to sleep at night, she had somehow noticed that her tears only made her father’s worse. She therefore adapted the emotionless mask the Yamani Court members had taught her with the gayety of the Tortallan court. Instead of showing no emotion, she forced a smile. Later on, it would be helpful, but only after she had learned the difference between real and fake happiness.
However the biggest confusion was what to do with the now widowed heir. The treaty, it was seen, was weaker than assumed. Piers and Ilane were rushed to the Islands and sent messages back nightly through mage mirror on the progress. The Emperor would not give another princess, even if he had one. The Tortallan court would not accept a Yamani noble woman, as she was already too different and therefore could not be so common as well. Not for their king, who deserved so much more than an emotionless Lady. The Emperor trusted the Tortallan court, but not without one of his own on the throne, as he had already lost so much with the passing of Shinko.
It was a stalemate: a dangerous, deadly game with both courts soon to be thrown out of balance. But then one man, a lesser priest in the Yamani court reminded the Emperor of Illane’s bravery and her daughter’s prowess. The woman who saved the most precious of all the courts possessions. Of the power and nature that the youngest child had shown. That the little slip of a girl that was so very Yamani had gone onto be a Tortallan lady and knight.
Piers baulked at the proposal. The Prince stammered about technicality. Kel stepped forward and agreed. She was not a diplomat or even much of a courtier, but she could see that only a Yamani allied Tortallan noble woman would do. And those were hard to come by.
Her friends tried to talk her out of it. They loved her, they loved him, but it was not the life for her. What about the battle field? What about her men? The people of New Hope? She would no longer be a commander, but a queen. She said little, other than that a queen was no more than a commander with a crown and a throne.
Neal spoke the loudest. He loved her like a sister, like a dear friend. He was unwilling to let her make such a sacrifice for her country. “It will be the most polite marriage the world has ever seen. A ‘sleep well, your Highness’ each night.” Yuki was the one to finally talk him down. She was the only one in the court that didn't seem surprised and whole heartedly supported Kel’s decision.
In private, though, she was the only one Kel spoke with frankly. About her fears; her worries about the fact that she was not ready to give up her place as a knight. How inside, despite the clean façade, her stomach turned each time they locked eyes. Of course she loved Roald. As a brother, a friend, a fellow knight. Never as a man or a lover or a husband. Yuki would hand her a cup of tea and tell her that she was lucky, that this was an opportunity to save the lower classes, that there were worst fates than to marry your friend. But there was a sadness that even her mask could not hide: that her closest friend would lose her innocence and her chance of love in a single day.
A contract was signed, detailing both parties’ compliance and responsibilities. For once in her life, Kel allowed herself to be as unfeeling as the “lump” that she had been described as. She signed her name in Yamani characters and smiled when she was told to and followed instructions. If that was to be here life, she should start practicing now.
The wedding was set for the spring. Rushed, for a royal affair, but still opulent and over the top. Lalasa made more dresses than her mistress could count a whole rainbow of lavishly expensive silk, lace, velvet and jewels. Each inch embroidered with signs for prosperity, happiness, and (much to Kel’s chagrin) fertility. When the day came, Lalasa hovered about until the very last minute, cutting threads and shifting folds, muttering age old pieces of wisdom that Kel had heard a thousand times.
When Kel walked down the aisle of people, it was not as she had fantasized as a small child. The smiles on the faces she passed were fake, poorly covering pity. Only the crowd of Yamani delegates remained impassive. She looked a bride, at least, wearing layers of silk, velvet and lace in a series of gowns, skirts and surcoats that were a surprisingly good mix of Yamani and Tortallan styles. The bright blue of the gown was nothing other than Conte perfect, folding over itself at the neckline and tied with a wide band of blue velvet to resemble a kimono. The sir coats of gauze and lace, however, were a stark white that she couldn’t help but remember that white was common in the Island’s morning.
As she sat in a small, private Yamani tea ceremony opposite her new husband, the same imagery struck again. He wore Mindelan cream and blue, an obi of grey as a nod to her title. His look was perfectly blank, enough to make even the old mistress in the Emperor’s palace happy. The entire affair was awkward and without any joy. Most of the attendants were from the Isles or direct family members and friends, not the extended court. Typically, there would be the thrum of excitement and hope underneath the blank faces, but instead there was little emotion. Maybe a little sad or, once again, hiding pity.
Only one person, a distant Aunt on Roald’s side, ignored custom and showed her feelings. She sat in the back in purple and red, bawling into a square of silk loud enough that those passing the garden worried. When Kel caught Roald’s (her husband’s, she reminded herself) eye as she poured him a cup of tea, she couldn’t help but notice the small light of a smile. He noticed the same oddity of the situation as she. Maybe, just maybe, this marriage could be more than favorable.
The first time they appeared as a couple was at the ball held that very night in their honor. Kel wore crinkled red silk and bronze gauze until early in the morning, when she was instructed to change into more comfortable kimonos of the same color. As she descended the Grand Stair for the first time as an heir, her stomach dropped. She was not “radiant” or “beautiful” or “a goddess”, independent of what people might say. She was Kel .Strong, independent Kel with her head held high and her scared hands clutching onto Roald’s as a life line. She was not a born to be a queen, but, by the Goddess, she would become one.