Post by EymberFyire on Apr 18, 2013 17:28:10 GMT 10
Title: The Politics of the Heart 3
Rating: PG
Word Count: 737
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: None
A/N: I'm incredibly interested in the play between Yamani and Tortallan culture that is beginning to happen at the end of PoTS. Politics is my Activist!Lalasa storyline that explores that.
Kel is sitting at her desk. Her back is straight, and she is facing the window, though it seems more out of habit than anything. Her eyes don’t track the passers-by, or the sparrows, or the smoke stretching out of the lower city. She just sits, and stares, one hand toying with a Yamani painted fan. Twirling it, round and round. Rote memory.
There is an unfolded letter on her desk, than bears the mark of smoke and soot. Tobe takes all of this in. Concludes this is not a good sign.
He has knocked already once, but he tries again for good measure, trying to gain his Lady’s attention. It’s no good. She’s off wherever she goes when something’s truly bothering her.
“Lady? Lady. Lady Kel”. She inhales slightly. Turns. She has her mask on. Mayhap she’s slipped in the years since she lived there - mayhap Tobe just knows her too well after so long, but he can tell how upset she is by the riled look in her eyes. There are still formalities to observe though. She plays at being fine.
“Tobe.” She smiles. “I must have been lost in thought.” and she stands, joints cracking as she stretches.
“Like as not.” He doesn’t comment on her distance. There are, after all, formalities for him, too. “I just came to see whether you had need of me.”
She flaps an arm away, then rubs the back of her neck, a tired not-smile tugging at her lips. “No, no. No need tonight, thanks.”
He nods his head, then turns to go. Pauses. She is already turning back to the window, and he can tell this will be one of those nights in which she sleeps not a wink. He remembers them from New Hope.
“Lady...” and he pauses as she turns, fan still twirling in her hand. Back and forth. Twining between fingers. She tilts her head, inviting his comment, but Tobe has never been very good at comforting people. He runs a hand over the stubble on his chin, then turns back, flipping a chair around to sit.
“You look like a Mithran at a brothel, Lady. What canker’s got you so sore?”
Likewise, another noble’d smack him across the mouth for such impudence - smack him and the servants would spit back up their drinks at the informality, but the Lady had always had a closer relationship with help like him than most. It was gambler’s odds that this was why her tail was in a twist.
“Did I ever tell you how I got this fan?”
Tobe rubs his nose and sniffs. She was forever doing this - talking about things that didn’t seem to have any baring on what was just said. Tobe had learned that if you listened long enough she made her point. Eventually.
“No, Lady. I can’t rightly say you did.”
She flicks it open with a snap. He recognizes it - from an Inn called the Glaive and Sword, down on Baker’s street. That explained more than it didn’t - Baker’s street was afire, or what was left of it, and the Glaive had been wrapped up in all this mess from the beginning.
“No matter, I suppose.” She snaps it shut. Twirls it again. “Thank you Tobe. Have a good night.”
That was that then. He’d get no more out of her now. He returned the chair to its place at the table, bowed slightly. She had already turned back to the window.
His hand was on the knob to her door when he heard, very quietly, “Would you hate me, Tobe? If I’d sworn to stand by your side and then... not?”
He looked over his shoulder, genuinely surprised. “No. I know it’d have to be something important, to keep you from your word like that.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he was overstepping even their lenient boundaries, but she’d taken a chance on him once, years ago. He’d take this one now.
“Lady... Lalasa knows you as well as any of us. She knows how much you love her. She also knows how important your duty is to you. She’ll forgive you. Maybe not today, but... someday.”
She didn’t respond immediately, and so he opened her door to leave. From the hallway he heard, “I hope so Tobe”, but he didn’t shut it fast enough to miss the quiet, “I know I wouldn’t.”
Rating: PG
Word Count: 737
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: None
A/N: I'm incredibly interested in the play between Yamani and Tortallan culture that is beginning to happen at the end of PoTS. Politics is my Activist!Lalasa storyline that explores that.
Kel is sitting at her desk. Her back is straight, and she is facing the window, though it seems more out of habit than anything. Her eyes don’t track the passers-by, or the sparrows, or the smoke stretching out of the lower city. She just sits, and stares, one hand toying with a Yamani painted fan. Twirling it, round and round. Rote memory.
There is an unfolded letter on her desk, than bears the mark of smoke and soot. Tobe takes all of this in. Concludes this is not a good sign.
He has knocked already once, but he tries again for good measure, trying to gain his Lady’s attention. It’s no good. She’s off wherever she goes when something’s truly bothering her.
“Lady? Lady. Lady Kel”. She inhales slightly. Turns. She has her mask on. Mayhap she’s slipped in the years since she lived there - mayhap Tobe just knows her too well after so long, but he can tell how upset she is by the riled look in her eyes. There are still formalities to observe though. She plays at being fine.
“Tobe.” She smiles. “I must have been lost in thought.” and she stands, joints cracking as she stretches.
“Like as not.” He doesn’t comment on her distance. There are, after all, formalities for him, too. “I just came to see whether you had need of me.”
She flaps an arm away, then rubs the back of her neck, a tired not-smile tugging at her lips. “No, no. No need tonight, thanks.”
He nods his head, then turns to go. Pauses. She is already turning back to the window, and he can tell this will be one of those nights in which she sleeps not a wink. He remembers them from New Hope.
“Lady...” and he pauses as she turns, fan still twirling in her hand. Back and forth. Twining between fingers. She tilts her head, inviting his comment, but Tobe has never been very good at comforting people. He runs a hand over the stubble on his chin, then turns back, flipping a chair around to sit.
“You look like a Mithran at a brothel, Lady. What canker’s got you so sore?”
Likewise, another noble’d smack him across the mouth for such impudence - smack him and the servants would spit back up their drinks at the informality, but the Lady had always had a closer relationship with help like him than most. It was gambler’s odds that this was why her tail was in a twist.
“Did I ever tell you how I got this fan?”
Tobe rubs his nose and sniffs. She was forever doing this - talking about things that didn’t seem to have any baring on what was just said. Tobe had learned that if you listened long enough she made her point. Eventually.
“No, Lady. I can’t rightly say you did.”
She flicks it open with a snap. He recognizes it - from an Inn called the Glaive and Sword, down on Baker’s street. That explained more than it didn’t - Baker’s street was afire, or what was left of it, and the Glaive had been wrapped up in all this mess from the beginning.
“No matter, I suppose.” She snaps it shut. Twirls it again. “Thank you Tobe. Have a good night.”
That was that then. He’d get no more out of her now. He returned the chair to its place at the table, bowed slightly. She had already turned back to the window.
His hand was on the knob to her door when he heard, very quietly, “Would you hate me, Tobe? If I’d sworn to stand by your side and then... not?”
He looked over his shoulder, genuinely surprised. “No. I know it’d have to be something important, to keep you from your word like that.” He paused for a moment, wondering if he was overstepping even their lenient boundaries, but she’d taken a chance on him once, years ago. He’d take this one now.
“Lady... Lalasa knows you as well as any of us. She knows how much you love her. She also knows how important your duty is to you. She’ll forgive you. Maybe not today, but... someday.”
She didn’t respond immediately, and so he opened her door to leave. From the hallway he heard, “I hope so Tobe”, but he didn’t shut it fast enough to miss the quiet, “I know I wouldn’t.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!