Today's chapter update was pretty short, since it's the last chapter in Part 2 of Book 2. So I'm posting this short up to go with it - it's set during the events of Book 1, before and after Ebrellin-i and Luciprochoros's chess game. I had to hold back on posting this until now because it contained a bit of spoiler content, especially for character relationships and parentage. (I was holding back especially because Katherine is Ebrellin-i and Luciprochoros's daughter.)
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Luciprochoros
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"I'm not bargaining, and I'm not fooling around, either." I lift my glass as I speak, peering over the bowl at my brother's baleful yellow eyes. He's not happy now, but then, after I decide to issue any sort of directive, is he ever? What is it about a man doing an honest day's business that makes 'Sy so cranky?
His eyes narrow, his brow furrowing as he frowns from behind the laced fingers of his hands. "You're playing down my words in your head. I can see it in your face. I can practically hear it. So you might as well put the words out in the open where we can both hear them." He removes his mask of fingers, parting one hand from it to cup his glass of wine. He doesn't drink from it. He just swishes it lightly around and stares at it from the corner of his eye. My, he's very serious, if he's paying his wine that little attention.
I smile at that remark, though I don't put the full radiance into it. I may have my airs and graces to put on, but they're not needed here, and try as he might to deny it, I do respect my brother a great deal. "Of course. You're shooting down my ideas before they even get a clear sight of the sky, just because of who is throwing them out there. For anyone else, you'd never put this idea to so much rigorous questioning. It is only me, your dear brother, who incurs this level of inspection. And though you may sneeze at the very concept," I gesture forward, the wineglass still balanced in my palm, "I would go so far as to say that you're not being fair to me."
I'm right. He does sneeze, or rather he snorts. I think I might have even gotten a laugh out of him. "I'm looking at your office, Jherdai, not your relation to me. You know that, and we get into this every time I respond to your official directives in a way that you dislike, but my office commands. I can't very well bend things for you. I can't change reality, I can't change how things are, and you very well can't expect the rest of the world to become foolish along with you when you get it into your head to--"
"See, there you are, doing it again." I cut him off with a wave of the same hand that's holding the wineglass. "You wouldn't dress down someone else like this. This is fraternal discrimination. Why do I have to deal with this?" I toss my hands in the air, repress the urge to toss my hair as well. The motion would be lost on him. "I have an empire to run, and I won't have full-time to do it either this week, what with my travelling. I have obligations that I can't ignore. You can't decide that I don't have them just because they might take me to a place that you don't particularly like." I sniff, looking down into my sadly shallow glass with a pout that I can't suppress. "I think it's a rather nice place to have a meeting. I'd visit more often, if I were invited."
I wager a glance back up to my brother. He's almost unreadable. To anyone else, possibly Katherine excepted, his face would be a granite wall. I can see the anger in it, but not nearly as intense as I expect it. Just a few touches, really. What's up front and plain to my eye is much more distressing to me. Concern. Deep concern.
I sigh, the sound something more honest than I'd normally let out. My forehead's resting in my palm, fingers digging into my short blonde bangs, elbow on the table. He got me. I hate it when he does this. I'm supposed to see through the rest of the world - I don't like anyone in it seeing through me. I hate showing weakness. Most of all I hate walking into showing it. "It's just business." I'm lying through my teeth, to my brother who is the Law shoved into a body, and damned if we didn't both see it coming that I would. I hear him sigh, a short exhalation through his teeth.
"The day any one thing any man does is 'just business' is the day I let my children go on dates without putting the fear of Me into whoever dares to think they're worthy of them. You're a fool and you'll be more a fool there than you will be here. I can't believe I'm letting you go without me." I feel his eyes on me. I'm glad I'm not looking up into them. I only feel relief. I knew he'd let me off. Well, I was pretty sure.
I am the boss here after all, right?
"I'm sending escorts with you." I feel the heat of his gaze skirt away from me. He must be looking away, glaring holes into my walls or something like that. "You're lucky I don't send Katherine with you, just to punish you for pulling a fool stunt like this." He pauses.
My, I think he might actually be wondering if he went too far.
"I trust whatever guard you decide to put on me will be sufficient." I turn away, hand still to my face. I don't want to let him see. His eyes always see too much, and so do mine. "Go on. It's a fine night, and I've packing to do. No sense in keeping you pent up here when you could be out fighting the good fight." I'm really being generous - I can feel my brother's urge to cut into things from here. He needs to go deal some Justice. Work some stress out of his system. Katherine will always be happy to accomodate that.
I hear the door close a few moments later. He didn't bother to reply.
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I finally manage to make it into my quarters. Over a week's worth of journeying and diplomacy means there's far too much waiting for me back at home. Many of these things I can wave away or delegate until I can handle the issues myself. The blessing and curse of employing middle management, as they say.
One of the issues that I cannot so easily dismiss is waiting for me in my little personal wet bar. [Well, okay. Maybe not-so-little. Adequately sized.] His ubiquitous jackboots are propped up on the mahogany bar, his frame leaning easily back into a plush leather barstool. [My barstools have backrests. It's saved my ass one or two or a thousand nights.] He's got his hands crossed over his midsection, and he's just grinning at me. To be fair, there's already scotch waiting on the bar for me. How generous of him. He's cradling a brandy snifter himself, swishing the amber liquid around as I settle up in front of the bar.
Well, I'll give him this: he may not know it yet, but my brother picked a damn good position to be in when I give him the news.
He watches me with that same smirk as I knock back a few gulps of the scotch. "You're picking up the next round, I hope you realize."
I snort. "Fancy you telling me that in my own bar, 'Sy." I chuckle. "It's just like you, though." I can't pry this grin out of the side of my cheek. It's embedded there, like a fossil.
"Glad to be back in Radia, I see." He sips his brandy, then regards me with those golden eyes. Damn him, he's going to make me talk as much as he can. There's that old sensation again, of the words starting to be pulled out of me. I...ignore it. I have plenty that I want to say already, in my own good time.
I lean back and sigh, stretching my arms over my head. "You bet! Just can't get enough of the air here, really. I keep forgetting how stuffy it gets, especially in his Palace! I don't know how his daughter with him takes it, really, but scant little anyone knows about her. Shame." I sniff, peering down into my scotch. There's not enough of it, but is there ever? "I suppose you're waiting to hear of news of your new trainee who arrived there recently."
He grins. I know 'Sy loves it when he's got the charge of employing someone's kid. I'm not sure if it's a form of vengeance so much as his opportunity to correct everyone else's parenting skills. Of course, when it comes to Jaxhelshon...I look forward to that sort of thing. What can I say? Katherine wanted and needed to be Armed. Jaxhelshon needed it and thought he wanted it. That sort of thing is an education that money just can't buy.
"Well, the reports did come in...but yes, I am waiting to hear of it." Smug bastard. He thinks I'll be upset, does he? No, but he doesn't think he'll hear anything right now that he doesn't want to. Add to that his attitude before I left here...
I shrug. "What's to say? He's your charge now. The Jhe o'Sul cheerfully informed me that my youngest son's being put to use shoveling up horse manure. After that, it's not my say to know, is it? He's your charge." And then, it comes out of my mouth before I have a chance to catch it: "I'm accustomed enough by now to having to take a step back away from my child's upbringing."
His facial response to that is interesting: leashed anger mixed with a wistful sadness, and just an edge of surprise. Well, why not? He knows every bit of what I've gone through to raise that first child of mine, and how little I could see of her at times, and for exactly which reasons. He knows what I've done to keep what I love, and how many attempts some other person made to take that all away.
"...How did that go?" He sips his brandy, eyes down. Ah, the meat of the matter. Maybe he planned on discussion of Jaxhelshon to lighten up the mood. It's alright, though.
I've had this talk many times before.
"Tense. ...Acrid. He'd like to kill me sooner than look at me. Nothing's changed. Peacekeeper Briarseal looked like a bowstring pulled taut. Certainly a more than adequate guard. He keeps his composure." I can sense my brother waving me onward, even though he doesn't bother making the gesture physically. "We talked of the important things. I will say for him that he would like our daughter to go and visit him, but he doesn't wish me to put any of the paperwork in motion myself."
"Then why are you saying it?" That cold, calm voice, lacking the tone of reproach but managing to express it on another level. Damn you 'Sy.
"...Because I still try to make this work, and it was a thing that happened. He..." I sigh, then get up to fix something a little stronger for him and me both. "He hasn't gotten any better. I suppose that sums it up. He hasn't gotten any better, and when I think of Katherine visiting him right now, I can't help but feel--"
"I understand." I nod, and pour. "Any more on that matter in an official context would be inadvisable." He grins. "...But, if there's nothing else to be officially voiced, feel free to rant unofficially. The Law has no qualms there."
I snort, and then set his drink down in front of him before walking around the bar and cradling my own. I took the liberty of leaving the bottle out within easy reach. He raises an eyebrow at the glass, then redirects that eyebrow at me. I simply lift my glass up to him in reply. "Cheers." I knock the vodka back. It trots down my throat in heavier boots than 'Sy's.
"Za zdorovje!" He follows that foreign garble by, well, quaffing. I wasn't sure you could really quaff vodka, but there's 'Sy, always proving me wrong. I raise an eyebrow at him. What the hell was that? He smirks, showing a grin of even white teeth that's been the last thing more than a few criminals have seen before their deaths. "To health."
"Ah. Illuminating." I shake my head. "That was about as incomprehensible as the speech that canters out of Jhe Briarseal's mouth sometimes. It's not the same region, though."
He chuckles and shakes his head. "It hails from the same land as the vodka. So," he helps himself to more of the spirits, "just what brought this on? Was Ebrelle that provoking, this time?"
I mimic him and have some more vodka myself before going on with this. "Well, yes. He had a new angle this time. Something I certainly didn't expect, and held my composure through." He gives me an eyebrow twitch and an air of impatience, but lets me go on. Good. The vodka's taking effect. Great, even. "Your son."
He startles, but doesn't jar from his slouch too much. "What mistake's Gerald made this time? I imagine Camden can haul him out of jail, just the same." He pauses. "...In fact, that's such a common occurrence that I'm amazed it gave you any pause. What new twist could there possibly be to Gerald getting caught at what he's doing?"
I sigh. Of course he's not all that concerned. He's thinking of the wrong son. "None, because that's not what happened. What happened was that the Jhe o'Sul paraded your son around trussed up like a member of his own personal harem and officially named him his consort to me. And before you go on thinking that Gerald wouldn't look very attractive in that sort of role, let me stop you right there. I saw Lyric face-to-face in the King's Palace in Sul, Tesynnodai. He served the tea." I top off his vodka for him. He has this stony face that I don't like to remember. No parent ever would. He knocks back the vodka then, thankfully. I wanted to blunt that blow, after all.
After he swallows and the drink starts to hit him, he sits up. I can feel the heat of his anger boiling up, regardless of how much the alcohol wants to push him back down. I prepare to push him back down myself - he might try to burn off the alcohol, sober up, and do something stupid. Maybe something about my posture makes him think better of that idea. Whatever the case, he nods at me. "Keep talking."
I also keep pouring, but that's already implied.
"Lyric's in a tough position. He probably went there willingly. He had no idea what to do with himself while he was attending us. He followed the Jhe o'Sul's orders and acted according to rules of protocol. He didn't break his mask at all, even though he could tell I recognized him. He...he was brave, in a way, 'Sy. He offered me coffee when Ebrellin-i refused to provide it to me."
'Sy swallows, eyes closed. "Oh no." He plants his hand over his eyes and keeps it there, and I can feel him worrying.
"Don't worry so much. Just..." I sigh. "Look, you can go get him back without causing too many waves. Pick up my son while you're at it and I'm sure Ebrellin-i will consider it an even trade. He doesn't..." I tilt to the side just a little, then offset it by tossing back some vodka. Why not go for broke? "Ebrellin-i has no idea whose son he has. He wanted to parade a consort in front of me during that situation, in that setting, to rile me. He probably picked Lyric because he's pretty."
"...His consort." 'Sy's elbow is planted firmly on the bar, his head resting on his palm, fingers digging through his bangs. He's looking right past the bartop, right past everything. Who knows what he's really seeing?
I pat him on the forearm. "It'll be alright. He's safe, okay? S' the most important thing. He's obviously valued and he looked...healthy. Whatever it takes, just bring him back, alright? I can back an offer if it's necessary. I've got land I don't need. Money. Whatever. It'll be more valuable to Ebrellin-i if it's mine. We can manage this peaceably."
'Sy's eyes are almost hollow. Then he lets out the deepest sigh I've ever heard wheeze out of him. Now he just looks angry and exasperated.
I top off his glass. He takes it, studies it. "Whatever it takes. It's been ten years. I just want him home."
With that, we work on draining the bottle and its cousins.
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Comments
19 April 2009
38 min 32 sec
Just a bit of continuity here;
"He's got his hands crossed over his midsection, and he's just grinning at me. To be fair, there's already scotch waiting on the bar for me. How generous of him. He's cradling a brandy snifter himself, swishing the amber liquid around as I settle up in front of the bar."
If he's got his hands crossed over his stomach, how is he swirling a brandy snifter?
Nothing? Nothing? NOTHING? Nothing, tra la la?
-Jereth (David Bowie), "The Labyrinth"
19 February 2009
8 hours 31 min
WITH HIS BELLY BUTTON.
9 February 2009
2 weeks 2 days
DEAD FROM LAUGHTER.
I am the bridge-jumping friend your parents warned you about.