Post by Tamari on Aug 14, 2020 6:07:32 GMT 10
Series: exile
Title: Kalasin II
Rating: PG
Event: a change is as good as a rest
Words: 1082
Summary: Kalasin, Thayet’s daughter, has never set foot in Sarain.
/ Thayet visits Kally for Binur's birth.
Notes: This is a departure stylistically from the rest of the related works, but it was time for a talk.
Even nine months pregnant, Kally is ready to swing on the hooded figure she finds in her rooms.
“Wait, it’s me!” comes a hurried whisper.
“Ma? What — how?”
Thayet removes her hood. Kally greedily takes in the sight of her mother’s face: the brightness of hazel eyes, the strong nose, the ivory skin crinkled by faint lines.
“Stowed away with some merchants. The council didn’t approve a visit, so nobody knows except Jon and Kaddar.” Thayet winks.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Ma, but why did you go to this much trouble?”
“My mother was dead long before Roald was born,” Thayet says quietly. “I had Buri and Alanna — I wasn’t alone — but I wanted my ma so much I ached with it. I needed to be here for you. For this.”
Kally flings herself into her mother’s arms. The size of her belly almost knocks Thayet over.
“Careful, baby.” Thayet laughs musically. “Any day now, huh?”
Kally groans. “Should have been a few days ago, but Binur is taking his time.”
“It’s definitely a boy?” Thayet guides Kally over to the sitting area of her palatial suite.
Kally plops down on a luxurious couch, sighing. “So say the palace healers. I wouldn’t mind a girl, though.” She sometimes imagines a little girl with Kaddar’s smile, with Vania’s laugh and Lianne’s heart and a charm all her own.
“I loved having girls.” Thayet sits beside Kally and takes hold of her swollen hand. “You were such a fun child. I had to wait a little longer for more girls, but Lianne and Vania were worth the wait. When it comes to having babes, a change is almost as good as a rest.”
“How is everyone?” Kally asks, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. She usually receives a bundle of letters from her family when the ships come — often from Jasson, who loves to write, and from Lianne, who misses Kally furiously and transparently. Less often, Kally gets letters from Liam, who is busy with knighthood, or Vania, who’d rather pick up a bow than a brush and ink. She makes Kaddar read and summarize the infrequent, impersonal notes from Roald-and-Shinkokami.
Thayet describes life in Tortall, and Kally clings to every word. Liam is off in the east fighting bandits. Jasson is publishing an academic paper with Numair Salmalin. Lianne is gaining renown for her paintings and riding with the Ladies. Jon is no longer negotiating a marriage for Vania, who plans to enter the service of the Goddess.
That makes Kally blink, and she can’t help the rush of jealousy and betrayal that sweeps through her like a desert wind.
Thayet notices. “Oh, my love. It’s not about the diplomatic marriage. Vania refuses to marry a man, and we don’t want to force her.”
“Like you forced me?”
“The situation isn’t the same—” Thayet begins.
“All I’m hearing is that you won’t force Vania to marry someone she doesn’t love, you won’t exile her to Maren or Galla. But you were happy enough to be rid of me.” Kally tries to stand up, but she’s too tired to go anywhere.
Thayet grips Kally’s hand painfully tightly. “I thought you loved Kaddar. I thought you were learning to love Carthak.”
“Yes, but—” Kally cuts herself off this time. “You love Tortall, but don’t you miss Sarain? Don’t you miss your homeland? Don’t you dream about it? Don’t you wake in the night with something missing inside of you?”
“Yes, but,” Thayet repeats.
“But you chose to leave. You chose to abandon your people.” Kally pulls away.
There is grief, deep and old, in Thayet’s voice. “They tried to assassinate me, so I fled. What are you saying, Kally? I should have stayed? I should’ve tried to put Sarain’s broken pieces back together? Was that my duty, to marry a warlord, to sacrifice myself for the common good? How could I have succeeded where my mother failed?”
“The new warlord married a K’miri woman, too, and there is finally peace.” Kally’s eyes wander across the room, to where her wedding blanket is draped over the foot of the bed.
“Dusan zhir Anduo and I wouldn’t have been like Lord Ekon and Princess Hathai. Dusan was cruel, and the K’mir wouldn’t have followed me to peace. My mother’s people didn’t know me, isolated from them, raised like a lowlander. The Tourakoms were only allowed as guards for us because they weren’t Hau Ma, did you know that? Mama went back only twice to her ancestral lands. She was never allowed to take me. I have still never seen her mountain, or the stream that bears your name — I don’t even know if her family survived the war. When I fled, I kept only what my mother gave me.”
“What did she give you?” Kally asks, her hand on her belly.
“Stories,” Thayet says. “Always stories. Her legacy. I look like my father did, like a daughter of the jin Wilima House, but I get my black hair from her. I have a shred of her determination, a scrap of her kindness, the slightest shade of her courage. And, of course, her crossbow.”
Kally swallows, her throat suddenly tight. “I wish I could’ve known her. I wish I could live up to her name.”
“She would have loved you, Kalasin. She would be so proud you bear her name. She’d be so proud of you.”
“Why don’t you ever talk about her?”
“I should have.” Thayet shakes her head. “It hurt so much when I left Sarain — I tried to pretend it didn’t. I was so focused on staying alive. And then I married your father. The nobles already looked down on me for being a foreign princess, for starting schools and creating the Riders. I fell in love with Tortall, with freedom, with fighting for the rights of the common people. I think Jon forgets that I was Saren once. Maybe I do too. It’s easier, severing those ties, when holding onto them reminds us of what we’ve lost. But she left me the stories. I should have told them to you.”
Kally grips her mother’s hand again. “It’s not too late, ma. Tell me about Kalasin tonight. Maybe it will inspire Binur to come out and hear for himself.”
When Thayet sails back to Tortall a week after Binur’s birth, she leaves Kally behind again. But Kalasin — the mother, the daughter — keeps her story.
Title: Kalasin II
Rating: PG
Event: a change is as good as a rest
Words: 1082
Summary: Kalasin, Thayet’s daughter, has never set foot in Sarain.
/ Thayet visits Kally for Binur's birth.
Notes: This is a departure stylistically from the rest of the related works, but it was time for a talk.
Even nine months pregnant, Kally is ready to swing on the hooded figure she finds in her rooms.
“Wait, it’s me!” comes a hurried whisper.
“Ma? What — how?”
Thayet removes her hood. Kally greedily takes in the sight of her mother’s face: the brightness of hazel eyes, the strong nose, the ivory skin crinkled by faint lines.
“Stowed away with some merchants. The council didn’t approve a visit, so nobody knows except Jon and Kaddar.” Thayet winks.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Ma, but why did you go to this much trouble?”
“My mother was dead long before Roald was born,” Thayet says quietly. “I had Buri and Alanna — I wasn’t alone — but I wanted my ma so much I ached with it. I needed to be here for you. For this.”
Kally flings herself into her mother’s arms. The size of her belly almost knocks Thayet over.
“Careful, baby.” Thayet laughs musically. “Any day now, huh?”
Kally groans. “Should have been a few days ago, but Binur is taking his time.”
“It’s definitely a boy?” Thayet guides Kally over to the sitting area of her palatial suite.
Kally plops down on a luxurious couch, sighing. “So say the palace healers. I wouldn’t mind a girl, though.” She sometimes imagines a little girl with Kaddar’s smile, with Vania’s laugh and Lianne’s heart and a charm all her own.
“I loved having girls.” Thayet sits beside Kally and takes hold of her swollen hand. “You were such a fun child. I had to wait a little longer for more girls, but Lianne and Vania were worth the wait. When it comes to having babes, a change is almost as good as a rest.”
“How is everyone?” Kally asks, trying to hide the desperation in her voice. She usually receives a bundle of letters from her family when the ships come — often from Jasson, who loves to write, and from Lianne, who misses Kally furiously and transparently. Less often, Kally gets letters from Liam, who is busy with knighthood, or Vania, who’d rather pick up a bow than a brush and ink. She makes Kaddar read and summarize the infrequent, impersonal notes from Roald-and-Shinkokami.
Thayet describes life in Tortall, and Kally clings to every word. Liam is off in the east fighting bandits. Jasson is publishing an academic paper with Numair Salmalin. Lianne is gaining renown for her paintings and riding with the Ladies. Jon is no longer negotiating a marriage for Vania, who plans to enter the service of the Goddess.
That makes Kally blink, and she can’t help the rush of jealousy and betrayal that sweeps through her like a desert wind.
Thayet notices. “Oh, my love. It’s not about the diplomatic marriage. Vania refuses to marry a man, and we don’t want to force her.”
“Like you forced me?”
“The situation isn’t the same—” Thayet begins.
“All I’m hearing is that you won’t force Vania to marry someone she doesn’t love, you won’t exile her to Maren or Galla. But you were happy enough to be rid of me.” Kally tries to stand up, but she’s too tired to go anywhere.
Thayet grips Kally’s hand painfully tightly. “I thought you loved Kaddar. I thought you were learning to love Carthak.”
“Yes, but—” Kally cuts herself off this time. “You love Tortall, but don’t you miss Sarain? Don’t you miss your homeland? Don’t you dream about it? Don’t you wake in the night with something missing inside of you?”
“Yes, but,” Thayet repeats.
“But you chose to leave. You chose to abandon your people.” Kally pulls away.
There is grief, deep and old, in Thayet’s voice. “They tried to assassinate me, so I fled. What are you saying, Kally? I should have stayed? I should’ve tried to put Sarain’s broken pieces back together? Was that my duty, to marry a warlord, to sacrifice myself for the common good? How could I have succeeded where my mother failed?”
“The new warlord married a K’miri woman, too, and there is finally peace.” Kally’s eyes wander across the room, to where her wedding blanket is draped over the foot of the bed.
“Dusan zhir Anduo and I wouldn’t have been like Lord Ekon and Princess Hathai. Dusan was cruel, and the K’mir wouldn’t have followed me to peace. My mother’s people didn’t know me, isolated from them, raised like a lowlander. The Tourakoms were only allowed as guards for us because they weren’t Hau Ma, did you know that? Mama went back only twice to her ancestral lands. She was never allowed to take me. I have still never seen her mountain, or the stream that bears your name — I don’t even know if her family survived the war. When I fled, I kept only what my mother gave me.”
“What did she give you?” Kally asks, her hand on her belly.
“Stories,” Thayet says. “Always stories. Her legacy. I look like my father did, like a daughter of the jin Wilima House, but I get my black hair from her. I have a shred of her determination, a scrap of her kindness, the slightest shade of her courage. And, of course, her crossbow.”
Kally swallows, her throat suddenly tight. “I wish I could’ve known her. I wish I could live up to her name.”
“She would have loved you, Kalasin. She would be so proud you bear her name. She’d be so proud of you.”
“Why don’t you ever talk about her?”
“I should have.” Thayet shakes her head. “It hurt so much when I left Sarain — I tried to pretend it didn’t. I was so focused on staying alive. And then I married your father. The nobles already looked down on me for being a foreign princess, for starting schools and creating the Riders. I fell in love with Tortall, with freedom, with fighting for the rights of the common people. I think Jon forgets that I was Saren once. Maybe I do too. It’s easier, severing those ties, when holding onto them reminds us of what we’ve lost. But she left me the stories. I should have told them to you.”
Kally grips her mother’s hand again. “It’s not too late, ma. Tell me about Kalasin tonight. Maybe it will inspire Binur to come out and hear for himself.”
When Thayet sails back to Tortall a week after Binur’s birth, she leaves Kally behind again. But Kalasin — the mother, the daughter — keeps her story.