ICW: Coronation Blues [ii], G
Jun 14, 2016 18:25:30 GMT 10
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Post by mistrali on Jun 14, 2016 18:25:30 GMT 10
Title: Coronation Blues
Rating: G
WC: 316
Summary: Sandry worries about her coronation.
Warnings: None
Notes: Speculative, of course. My usual fare: light-as-you-please slice of life, fluffed up and stirred through with bits of angst and adjectives for flavour. The full 'story', very much G-rated, is here at my Ao3. Also, if this breaks the rules, mods, please go ahead and move it to Fanworks instead!
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Coronation Blues
You're being silly, fretting over what your friends and family will say, Sandry told herself firmly. But her mind raced when she tried to sleep, let alone concentrate on any of her other work. How much else there was to think about, even before the coronation date was set: her uncle's will and abdication papers to be signed, wardrobes to be looked over, advisors to sift through, pirates to ward off, interest groups to placate. Traders, she thought grouchily, glaring at the unfinished report on her desk, were happy to appeal to the state when it suited them, but kept themselves otherwise apart. And the merchants simmered with indignation over things done to the third and fourth cousins of acquaintances.
Finally she sighed, cast aside her report (the third one this week on harbour space) and grabbed for a handful of thread instead. Embroidery had always comforted her ever since Hatar, and now she stitched almost without thought, using her crystal to save her eyes from strain in the candlelight.
That was how Daja found her an hour and a half later at dawn, bent over four skeins of silk in different shades of blue and lilac.
"You should get more sleep. You're starting to look like Crane on a bad day," said her sister. Daja looked impossibly awake, in a fresh cotton tunic, orange hemp breeches and two white hair ties.
"Only starting to?" grumbled Sandry, through dry lips. She felt puffy-eyed and chufflebrained. "I'm glad you think so much of my looks."
Daja grinned at her. "Now you sound like him, too. Come to the shrine with me? It'll be good for your vanity." Sandry stuck out her tongue, but set aside her silk and went to wash, drink some tea and fetch the sweet pea blooms she kept as tokens for Pirisi. The embroidery, and her worries, could wait until the afternoon.