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rainbowfic2016-05-08 09:44 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2016-05-08 09:44 pm
Plant Party #3, Oliphaunt Grey #14, Crimson #15
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Beneath the Surface
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Plant Party #3. Lithops Weberi, Oliphaunt Grey #14. The rocks and stones are like old bones all bare of meat, Crimson #15. We're here to preserve democracy, not practice it.
Supplies and Materials: brush (nonplus), yarn,
Word Count: 1647
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ahnrel, Kamer, Rinahfi
Warnings: Politics and scheming and discussion of potential violence.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Dear Sir,
Things have been quiet in Nandere--but, then, I suppose, they always are, from a certain point of view. I have had no further meetings with King Malue, but I have been spending time getting to know more of the other courtiers. It seems that having been granted at least that first audience has substantially improved my credibility with everyone except Crown Prince Enairi...
The Crown Prince remained a problem, but Ahnrel was less concerned about him than he had been even a few days ago. Enairi seemed to no longer find it worthwhile to block his efforts or in any other way show overt hostility; perhaps because Malue was, at worst, neutrally civil towards the Holy City and its envoy. Whatever Enairi's personal feelings, whatever his personal failings, he was staunchly loyal to his brother. He might argue in private--Ahnrel would be very surprised if he didn't; that was what advisors were for, wasn't it?--but in public, he would give no impression of discord. It was something Ahnrel genuinely admired about the man, even if he disliked him.
Of course, that was no guarantee he wouldn't try to cause problems for Ahnrel and his mission--far from it. But Enairi wouldn't make things difficult for him with the rest of the court. Not without Malue's approval.
And if Ahnrel lost that, it wouldn't matter how much of the court supported peace. There was no real mechanism for resisting the king's will, no matter how unpopular or disastrous, unless you were one of his inner circle of advisors, and could speak to him directly. There was a theory that the difficulties between Nandere and Elanhe were the result of just that inflexibility--a king that was equal parts arrogant and stupid, and a nation with no practical means to effect policy changes forced into an unwinnable war that then proceeded to shape continental politics for centuries.
Even without that historical reference--which was, of course, probably an incomplete, misleading truth at best--Ahnrel would be concerned about the system Nandere had in place. Malue was a good man, a fair and reasonble one, and willing to take popular opinion into account. He was a good king, and Ahnrel was sure he wouldn't be the one to reopen hostilities. Not without provocation. Even Enairi was solid and dependable, devoted to his brother and his duty with a strength that bordered on fanaticism, and would probably maintain an uneasy peace unless given a good reason to break it.
But what of the next generation? And the next? And the next after that? A system without any kind of failsafe, without any way of peacefully incorporating dissent if the king was unwilling to listen...
If Malue were a less reasonable man, Ahnrel would fear a revolution.
And all of that was even before considering the very dangerous currents Ahnrel was only just starting to learn how to navigate, currents that swirled and battered at each other just below the deceptively calm, controlled surface of the court.
Currents like the ones surrounding this man. In a rigidly controlled environment like the court of Nandere, there were no overt factions, of course, but if there was a pro-war party at court, Rinahfi was its head.
Rinahfi was an older man, perhaps sixty-five, of average height and balding. He had small, close-set blue eyes that missed nothing, a quiet reputation for cruelty, and--what made him, in Ahnrel's opinion, most dangerous--a genial, affable sense of humor that made it no trial to spend time with him.
Until, of course, the gentleman was displeased.
Rinahfi came from an old, old house, with extensive holdings along the nation's coastline. Through his mother, he had royal blood three or four generations back, and he was one of the five or six candidates for the throne should both Malue and Enairi die childless.
Gods, in all their wisdom, forbid that eventuality. The last thing the world needed was one of the most powerful nations in the world with an affable sadist at its head. An affable sadist with no boundaries save those imposed by his own conscience--or outright revolution.
As if guessing the tenor of his thoughts, Rinahfi smiled at Ahnrel over his cup of tea, warm and friendly, like a contented lion.
"So, Excellency," the old man said, still smiling. "Why don't you tell me why you're here?"
Ahnrel shrugged fluidly. "It's hardly a secret, my lord. The Holy Father wants to maintain Gegalin's peace. He sent me to help ensure that."
Rinahfi waved a hand. "Of course, of course. Everyone knows that. But why are you here, with me? My opinions are hardly secret. I'm not exactly a natural ally for you."
He nodded. "I know. As you say, my lord, neither of us keeps our politics a secret."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Ahnrel let a smile quirk at the corners of his mouth. "No, sir, it doesn't. Then again, it is hardly politically wise to refuse the invitation of a man of your position. So, the better question might be--why did you ask for me? My lord."
Rinahfi grinned. "Indeed, indeed. But that answer is a simple one. I like my information as close to the source as I can get it."
Ahnrel nodded and took a sip of his own tea, considering. "Then let us say, my lord, that the same is also true of me."
Rinahfi laughed, delighted. "So, you don't fear offending me after all, Excellency. How refreshing."
Ahnrel couldn't quite tell if he'd offended the old man with that or not. Nor, from the slight movement he detected from both Kamer and Rinahfi's guard, could they.
He didn't know that other guard's name, but he was tall and broad, and even balder than his lord. He was extremely fit, and seemingly ageless--he could be anywhere between forty and sixty. He was dark, nearly as dark as the darkest members of the Council in the Holy City, and his eyes were utterly expressionless. He was a slightly unnerving man, whom Ahnrel had never heard speak, had never even seen him move until this moment.
He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. He had to find some way to defuse the situaiton before the bodyguards took it upon themselves to do so.
Esecially since he had no idea how they were armed. Or if they'd attack each other or himself and Rinahfi. And he had no idea how skilled Kamer was, and the last thing he wanted was to get the other man hurt.
Even if he was probably at leats as much there as a spy as he was for Ahnrel's protection.
"I don't like to offend anyone, my lord," he said mildly--and cautiously. "Particularly not those with the power and possibly the inclination to make my life and my mission...difficult. I'm not naive, sir. I know full well you'll never be my ally. But I can hope at least for civility. Whichever of us wins the king's approval."
Rinahfi's face looked calculating for a moment, then mildly impressed, and the two guards relaxed. "Well, Excellency. I can certainly see this is going to be a very interesting game."
Ahnrel inclined his head, not quite sure if he'd won or lost this first round of that game.
The old man then turned the conversation to less dangerous waters--court gossip, the weather, the fish and produce from his estates--and closed the interview by persuading Ahnrel to research a genuinely interesting--and possibly heretical--theological question that, apparently, was all anyone was talking about in the dockside taverns.
He rose and bowed, promising a preliminary response by the end of the week, and then left the room, Kamer falling into step behind him, as always.
They were halfway back to their room when, aginst all expectations, Kamer actually spoke.
Of his own initiative.
"I don't like him," the guard said, low and even.
Ahnrel stopped. "What?"
"Keep moving, Excellency," Kamer urged.
"Right," he said, and started again. "What did you mean? Who don't you like?"
"Lord Rinahfi," he said, lowering his voice further. "Forgive me, Excellency, for the rudeness and the presumption, but you have asked my advice before..."
"No," Ahnrel said. "Don't apologize. I do value your advice, Kamer."
He relaxed just a hair. "Thank you, Excellency."
"Why?"
"Excellency?"
"Why don't you like him?"
Kamer hesitated for a breath, then answered, low and fierce, "He is false, and he is cruel. He smiles and he means to bring you down. And anyone else who stands in his way."
That...that very much did not sound good. "Do you mean even...?" He trailed off, unwilling to say it out loud.
But if Kamer was right, maybe revolution was an actually serious worry. One he--and the rest of the world--did not need.
Kamer shook his head. "I can't believe that. I can't. Not even of him. But I do believe that he will harm whomever he feels he has to--shed all the blood he thinks he needs to--in order to get what he thinks he needs. What he thinks we need. He certainly won't hesitate to harm you, Excellency."
That didn't exactly surprise Ahnrel, but the fact that the concern agitated Kamer so much did. And it touched him, more than a little. "I...I see. Thank you, Kamer, for that."
"Be careful, Excellency," the guard said, as he finally left him at his door. "Please."
"I will Kamer," he said. "I promise."
The guard bowed and shut the door behind Ahnrel, leaving the priest alone in his room and more than a little rattled.
Not that he'd expected to come out of this meeting, of this day, with any semblance of calm, but between the tension of the meeting and Kamer's agitation--to say nothing of Kamer's evident care...
Ahnrel didn't, in the final analysis, quite know what he was supposed to do with any of that.
Story: Beneath the Surface
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Plant Party #3. Lithops Weberi, Oliphaunt Grey #14. The rocks and stones are like old bones all bare of meat, Crimson #15. We're here to preserve democracy, not practice it.
Supplies and Materials: brush (nonplus), yarn,
Word Count: 1647
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Ahnrel, Kamer, Rinahfi
Warnings: Politics and scheming and discussion of potential violence.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Dear Sir,
Things have been quiet in Nandere--but, then, I suppose, they always are, from a certain point of view. I have had no further meetings with King Malue, but I have been spending time getting to know more of the other courtiers. It seems that having been granted at least that first audience has substantially improved my credibility with everyone except Crown Prince Enairi...
The Crown Prince remained a problem, but Ahnrel was less concerned about him than he had been even a few days ago. Enairi seemed to no longer find it worthwhile to block his efforts or in any other way show overt hostility; perhaps because Malue was, at worst, neutrally civil towards the Holy City and its envoy. Whatever Enairi's personal feelings, whatever his personal failings, he was staunchly loyal to his brother. He might argue in private--Ahnrel would be very surprised if he didn't; that was what advisors were for, wasn't it?--but in public, he would give no impression of discord. It was something Ahnrel genuinely admired about the man, even if he disliked him.
Of course, that was no guarantee he wouldn't try to cause problems for Ahnrel and his mission--far from it. But Enairi wouldn't make things difficult for him with the rest of the court. Not without Malue's approval.
And if Ahnrel lost that, it wouldn't matter how much of the court supported peace. There was no real mechanism for resisting the king's will, no matter how unpopular or disastrous, unless you were one of his inner circle of advisors, and could speak to him directly. There was a theory that the difficulties between Nandere and Elanhe were the result of just that inflexibility--a king that was equal parts arrogant and stupid, and a nation with no practical means to effect policy changes forced into an unwinnable war that then proceeded to shape continental politics for centuries.
Even without that historical reference--which was, of course, probably an incomplete, misleading truth at best--Ahnrel would be concerned about the system Nandere had in place. Malue was a good man, a fair and reasonble one, and willing to take popular opinion into account. He was a good king, and Ahnrel was sure he wouldn't be the one to reopen hostilities. Not without provocation. Even Enairi was solid and dependable, devoted to his brother and his duty with a strength that bordered on fanaticism, and would probably maintain an uneasy peace unless given a good reason to break it.
But what of the next generation? And the next? And the next after that? A system without any kind of failsafe, without any way of peacefully incorporating dissent if the king was unwilling to listen...
If Malue were a less reasonable man, Ahnrel would fear a revolution.
And all of that was even before considering the very dangerous currents Ahnrel was only just starting to learn how to navigate, currents that swirled and battered at each other just below the deceptively calm, controlled surface of the court.
Currents like the ones surrounding this man. In a rigidly controlled environment like the court of Nandere, there were no overt factions, of course, but if there was a pro-war party at court, Rinahfi was its head.
Rinahfi was an older man, perhaps sixty-five, of average height and balding. He had small, close-set blue eyes that missed nothing, a quiet reputation for cruelty, and--what made him, in Ahnrel's opinion, most dangerous--a genial, affable sense of humor that made it no trial to spend time with him.
Until, of course, the gentleman was displeased.
Rinahfi came from an old, old house, with extensive holdings along the nation's coastline. Through his mother, he had royal blood three or four generations back, and he was one of the five or six candidates for the throne should both Malue and Enairi die childless.
Gods, in all their wisdom, forbid that eventuality. The last thing the world needed was one of the most powerful nations in the world with an affable sadist at its head. An affable sadist with no boundaries save those imposed by his own conscience--or outright revolution.
As if guessing the tenor of his thoughts, Rinahfi smiled at Ahnrel over his cup of tea, warm and friendly, like a contented lion.
"So, Excellency," the old man said, still smiling. "Why don't you tell me why you're here?"
Ahnrel shrugged fluidly. "It's hardly a secret, my lord. The Holy Father wants to maintain Gegalin's peace. He sent me to help ensure that."
Rinahfi waved a hand. "Of course, of course. Everyone knows that. But why are you here, with me? My opinions are hardly secret. I'm not exactly a natural ally for you."
He nodded. "I know. As you say, my lord, neither of us keeps our politics a secret."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Ahnrel let a smile quirk at the corners of his mouth. "No, sir, it doesn't. Then again, it is hardly politically wise to refuse the invitation of a man of your position. So, the better question might be--why did you ask for me? My lord."
Rinahfi grinned. "Indeed, indeed. But that answer is a simple one. I like my information as close to the source as I can get it."
Ahnrel nodded and took a sip of his own tea, considering. "Then let us say, my lord, that the same is also true of me."
Rinahfi laughed, delighted. "So, you don't fear offending me after all, Excellency. How refreshing."
Ahnrel couldn't quite tell if he'd offended the old man with that or not. Nor, from the slight movement he detected from both Kamer and Rinahfi's guard, could they.
He didn't know that other guard's name, but he was tall and broad, and even balder than his lord. He was extremely fit, and seemingly ageless--he could be anywhere between forty and sixty. He was dark, nearly as dark as the darkest members of the Council in the Holy City, and his eyes were utterly expressionless. He was a slightly unnerving man, whom Ahnrel had never heard speak, had never even seen him move until this moment.
He didn't like it. He didn't like it at all. He had to find some way to defuse the situaiton before the bodyguards took it upon themselves to do so.
Esecially since he had no idea how they were armed. Or if they'd attack each other or himself and Rinahfi. And he had no idea how skilled Kamer was, and the last thing he wanted was to get the other man hurt.
Even if he was probably at leats as much there as a spy as he was for Ahnrel's protection.
"I don't like to offend anyone, my lord," he said mildly--and cautiously. "Particularly not those with the power and possibly the inclination to make my life and my mission...difficult. I'm not naive, sir. I know full well you'll never be my ally. But I can hope at least for civility. Whichever of us wins the king's approval."
Rinahfi's face looked calculating for a moment, then mildly impressed, and the two guards relaxed. "Well, Excellency. I can certainly see this is going to be a very interesting game."
Ahnrel inclined his head, not quite sure if he'd won or lost this first round of that game.
The old man then turned the conversation to less dangerous waters--court gossip, the weather, the fish and produce from his estates--and closed the interview by persuading Ahnrel to research a genuinely interesting--and possibly heretical--theological question that, apparently, was all anyone was talking about in the dockside taverns.
He rose and bowed, promising a preliminary response by the end of the week, and then left the room, Kamer falling into step behind him, as always.
They were halfway back to their room when, aginst all expectations, Kamer actually spoke.
Of his own initiative.
"I don't like him," the guard said, low and even.
Ahnrel stopped. "What?"
"Keep moving, Excellency," Kamer urged.
"Right," he said, and started again. "What did you mean? Who don't you like?"
"Lord Rinahfi," he said, lowering his voice further. "Forgive me, Excellency, for the rudeness and the presumption, but you have asked my advice before..."
"No," Ahnrel said. "Don't apologize. I do value your advice, Kamer."
He relaxed just a hair. "Thank you, Excellency."
"Why?"
"Excellency?"
"Why don't you like him?"
Kamer hesitated for a breath, then answered, low and fierce, "He is false, and he is cruel. He smiles and he means to bring you down. And anyone else who stands in his way."
That...that very much did not sound good. "Do you mean even...?" He trailed off, unwilling to say it out loud.
But if Kamer was right, maybe revolution was an actually serious worry. One he--and the rest of the world--did not need.
Kamer shook his head. "I can't believe that. I can't. Not even of him. But I do believe that he will harm whomever he feels he has to--shed all the blood he thinks he needs to--in order to get what he thinks he needs. What he thinks we need. He certainly won't hesitate to harm you, Excellency."
That didn't exactly surprise Ahnrel, but the fact that the concern agitated Kamer so much did. And it touched him, more than a little. "I...I see. Thank you, Kamer, for that."
"Be careful, Excellency," the guard said, as he finally left him at his door. "Please."
"I will Kamer," he said. "I promise."
The guard bowed and shut the door behind Ahnrel, leaving the priest alone in his room and more than a little rattled.
Not that he'd expected to come out of this meeting, of this day, with any semblance of calm, but between the tension of the meeting and Kamer's agitation--to say nothing of Kamer's evident care...
Ahnrel didn't, in the final analysis, quite know what he was supposed to do with any of that.
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no subject
Yeah, pretty much...