Post by EymberFyire on Apr 15, 2013 15:17:11 GMT 10
Title: The Politics of the Heart 1
Rating: PG
Word Count: 373
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1/B
Summary: The politics of Tortall are changing, and Kel and Lalasa are caught on opposite sides of the debate. Warnings: Passing mention of character death.
“I don’t believe I heard you correctly, Sire.”
The frigid and flat light of an early spring day in Corus does not so much as stream through the window as it does seep, and it does nothing to warm the decided chill that has come over the air with this statement.
“I believe you did, Lady Knight.” Roald’s voice is flat as the light, and not nearly as Yamani bland.
“Forgive me for asking you to repeat it, then.” The words are clipped. It is Kel’s equivalent of a shout.
But Contés were never known for their weak wills, and Roald merely raises an eyebrow in a way that reminds her so much of the dead King.
“I want you to stay away from her.”
She stares at him, hazel eyes meeting sapphire, her dreamer’s look sharpened by disbelief and betrayal.
“Tell me, sire.” Her voice is still so admirably calm - how did she do that? he wonders briefly but she is continuing, “How is it you expect me to remain neutral? I have friends in this conflict. Surely there is a better choice for arbitrator.”
She sounds so disinterested, like she is merely commenting upon a mundane fact. Remarking that her horse had lost a shoe, perhaps. And yet loosing her temper here would be more advantageous to her cause - would prove Roald wrong in his assessment of what the Realm needs. But it’s not in Kel’s nature to rage, and she would find it impossible to ignore her duty.
At last, Kel breaks the silence quietly. “Please. Lalasa is a friend, Sire - a dear one. And you expect me to abandon her when I’ve given my word I will be there for her?”
He turns and gazes out the window, out towards the streets where riots have been raging for two days. Parts of the city have burned. There is still smoke rising from the slums, and the Guard can barely keep order.
His father once told him that friends were a luxury a good King could not afford.
“Lady Knight,” and he is deadly serious, his voice low and precise, “I do not care who you have given your word to. I expect you to do as your King commands.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 373
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1/B
Summary: The politics of Tortall are changing, and Kel and Lalasa are caught on opposite sides of the debate. Warnings: Passing mention of character death.
“I don’t believe I heard you correctly, Sire.”
The frigid and flat light of an early spring day in Corus does not so much as stream through the window as it does seep, and it does nothing to warm the decided chill that has come over the air with this statement.
“I believe you did, Lady Knight.” Roald’s voice is flat as the light, and not nearly as Yamani bland.
“Forgive me for asking you to repeat it, then.” The words are clipped. It is Kel’s equivalent of a shout.
But Contés were never known for their weak wills, and Roald merely raises an eyebrow in a way that reminds her so much of the dead King.
“I want you to stay away from her.”
She stares at him, hazel eyes meeting sapphire, her dreamer’s look sharpened by disbelief and betrayal.
“Tell me, sire.” Her voice is still so admirably calm - how did she do that? he wonders briefly but she is continuing, “How is it you expect me to remain neutral? I have friends in this conflict. Surely there is a better choice for arbitrator.”
She sounds so disinterested, like she is merely commenting upon a mundane fact. Remarking that her horse had lost a shoe, perhaps. And yet loosing her temper here would be more advantageous to her cause - would prove Roald wrong in his assessment of what the Realm needs. But it’s not in Kel’s nature to rage, and she would find it impossible to ignore her duty.
At last, Kel breaks the silence quietly. “Please. Lalasa is a friend, Sire - a dear one. And you expect me to abandon her when I’ve given my word I will be there for her?”
He turns and gazes out the window, out towards the streets where riots have been raging for two days. Parts of the city have burned. There is still smoke rising from the slums, and the Guard can barely keep order.
His father once told him that friends were a luxury a good King could not afford.
“Lady Knight,” and he is deadly serious, his voice low and precise, “I do not care who you have given your word to. I expect you to do as your King commands.”