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rainbowfic2023-02-26 09:22 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2023-02-26 09:22 pm
Entry tags:
Tourmaline #1 [Starfall]
Name: Breakfast in Portcallan
Story: Starfall
Colors: Tourmaline #1 (cat/mouse)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 1970
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, Portcallan; Zila Fayne, Marran Delver. Carries on from Pawn in Play.
Summary: Zila and the Governor, the morning after.
It took Zila a full minute to remember where she was when she woke, sunlight streaming into the room. It hadn’t helped that she’d barely got a look at anything last night in the dark. She’d been a little drunk as well as too exhausted to worry about being more or less kidnapped, let alone the décor.
She lifted her head from the plump, white pillow and sat up, taking stock of a comfortably sized room, airy and light, with simple but solid furnishings. It was better than most places she’d stayed in, although not quite up to the standards of luxury in which she’d spent the preceding week, but she found that an improvement anyway.
Zila hopped out of bed, scooped up clothes that had been set out on a chair ready, and then tried the two doors. One of them opened into a tiny washroom and the other was locked.
“Well, it is nice to feel wanted,” she muttered, and went off to wash and dress. Maybe if she was quick enough, she could have a go at picking the lock and getting out of here. She wasn’t sure how you picked a lock, but it must be worth a try.
She had no such luck anyhow. She was still in the middle of buttoning up the cuffs of her jacket, when a servant pulled back the door and glided in. He gave a small, polite nod and informed her that the District Governor awaited her presence at breakfast. He made no demands, but waited with definite purpose, until she settled the last button and followed him out.
The uniformed man held open the door to the dining hall. Zila marched in, her nose in the air, but her stomach was churning. Despite some elements of last night that had been very unpleasant, she had enjoyed going back into the main auditorium with Governor Delver and causing a stir. Attracting similar attention seemed much less inviting prospect right now, in a much smaller room full of the Governor’s staff eating breakfast.
However, only a handful of them turned their heads, apparently more interested in the food and their own conversation than Zila. She breathed out and moved forward.
“Imai Fayne.”
Zila stopped at the sound of her name and searched for the speaker, turning until she saw a tall, grey woman rise from her seat.
The woman headed towards her, and then ushered her across towards the main table, where North Eastern’s District Governor was sitting, his head angled away from her, deep in discussion with the serious-looking man next to him.
“Governor,” said the grey woman smoothly, waiting until her employer looked up. “Your guest.”
The note of disapproval in her voice was unmistakable. Zila straightened, determined not to be intimidated. She thanked the woman with all the haughty graciousness she could muster, and then headed over to the empty seat beside the Governor.
“You slept well, I trust?” Delver murmured, as she pulled her chair in closer to the table.
“Hardly got a wink all night. I lay awake and worried the whole time about being abducted by a shady politician.”
She’d slept well for the first time all week, but she wasn’t going to let him know, or let him conclude that, somewhere deep down, she clearly did trust him more than Imor Veldiner.
“I am sorry to hear it,” he returned, voice light and even, and then passed her a cup of ohlflower tea with every show of politeness.
Zila accepted the drink, and then hissed: “Let me go now, or I’ll make a scene.”
The Governor didn’t look at her. He placed his hand over hers, lightly but she felt the warning pressure. “You will not. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself back in Veldiner’s hands – and you made your decision last night. Stick to it, please.”
Zila stared down at the tea, heat rising in her face.
Delver removed his hand and cast a sidelong glance at her. “I didn’t ask you to do what you did, my dear,” he added more softly.
“I still don’t see how that means I should go anywhere with you!” But she kept her voice low. He was right, curse him.
“You want to stay alive,” he said, still carefully casual. “I suggest you eat something, and we keep our conversation to more congenial matters.”
Zila then lifted her head. “Music?”
“If you like,” he began, but halted as a woman to Zila’s left passed her a bowl of fruit.
Zila shook her head, holding up a hand in refusal.
“I suggest you eat something,” the Governor said, watching. “We’ve a long journey ahead of us – and I can’t imagine you ate much last night.”
Between performance nerves and everything that had happened after, Zila hadn’t. She gave a small shake of her head, though. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
“Impossible in the current situation, unfortunately,” he responded, and when she turned towards him he gave a slight smile. “However, in the meantime, if you’ll at least accept some bread and butter, I’ll promise to ignore you for the rest of the morning.”
Zila couldn’t deny the sense in his advice. She didn’t really fancy the idea of trying to starve herself in protest at her situation anyway. She took one of the thick, slice of brown, seeded bread and then spread a fairly generous helping of butter onto it. “Is bread the best you have to offer? And I thought all you Governors lived in luxury!”
“Well,” he said, holding up his hands as if to say, what can one do?, “I am merely a rough north-easterner. But if you want something else, the choice here is perfectly adequate, I assure you.”
Zila pulled a chunk out of her slice of bread and butter with her fingers and ate it, nose in the air in the best haughty manner she could manage while trying not to get grease on her face. “Oh? What do you suggest?”
Amusement lit his face briefly. “Since this is our last day here, have you ever tried Portcallan Bounty? One of the few things about this city I miss when I’m not here.”
Zila raised her eyebrows at the dish of blackish-green vegetable matter, dusted with a light yellow spice of some kind, and swimming in a brown liquid. “I wasn’t asking you to poison me!”
“Not poison. Quite the delicacy, in fact,” he said firmly, passing her the serving spoon. “A type of seaweed, I believe, and its appearance is deceptive.”
She studied his face, but she wasn’t about to back down from his challenge. She took up the spoon and recklessly dished out a large helping onto her plate. “Better die sooner than later, given the way my life is going lately.”
“That’s the spirit. Although you ought to remember there would be consequences for me if anything happens to you. That is rather where our mutual interest lies.”
Zila nodded, quickly. She’d rather avoid thinking about being in danger – better to act as if he was lying, which he still could be. She picked up her fork and took a defiant forkful. It wasn’t bad, actually. Not as salty as she’d anticipated, but with a tang to it and it had been cooked in such a way as to make it crispier than it was slimy. “Not that dreadful,” she conceded, and belied her words by immediately helping herself to another mouthful.
“You don’t trust me,” Delver added in an undertone, shifting back in his chair. He had finished eating. There were only crumbs left on his plate. “I understand. I don’t trust you. But I mean you no harm. I promise I’ll help you to go anywhere you choose to afterwards – as long as it’s well out of Portcallan.”
Zila concentrated on eating and then took as much time as she could to swallow and dab her face with the napkin. Then she turned to him again. “I’d find that so much more comforting if you weren’t abducting me.”
“I am not,” he said. “I gave you a choice. It isn’t my fault the alternative wasn’t very attractive.”
Zila poked at the Portcallan Bounty with her fork and then stabbed a piece of bread instead. “I didn’t exactly get given much choice the first time one of you people made me an offer, either.”
“No. I don’t suppose you did.” His face cleared.
“I’d feel happier if I knew why you’re doing this.”
Delver held up a hand to quiet Zila as the grey woman – Imai Stolley, the Governor’s secretary – crossed over and bent down, addressing him in such a well-practised low tone that even Zila caught hardly any of it, close as she was. “Yes, well, tell him we’re leaving much too early for that. It’s quite impossible,” the Governor responded. As Stolley hurried away again, he glanced back at Zila. “Look, as I said, I can’t afford to trust you yet, either. When and if I feel I can, I’ll explain further.”
“People will think things if we do this.” Zila gestured with her free hand. “Thought you said last night you were taken. Wouldn’t it be better not to make people gossip?”
The Governor laughed. Several members of his staff looked over at them. He took no notice, and leant in towards her. “People always think things, I find. It’s best to ignore them. Although, my dear, given the lengths you claimed to be prepared to go to last night, I’m taken aback that it worries you!”
Zila’s cheeks burned. “That was only before I knew you better. You seemed all right from a distance.”
“Thank you,” he said. The amusement in his eyes made her laugh as well, however unwillingly. The whole thing was ridiculous. That he thought so too, cheered her.
“Too old, though, of course,” Zila added, casting him a wicked look.
Delver grinned. “Oh, quite.” He shook his head. “Well, I will admit I am certainly too old for this! I am sorry about it, you know. Can we both try and make the best of things?”
“Maybe I should have gone with Veldiner.”
“Come, now, you don’t believe that.”
“How do you know?”
He raised an eyebrow and studied her with an amused glint in his eye. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Zila grimaced. There was no answer to that, so she set to work on finishing her breakfast. Now she’d made a start, her appetite was reasserting itself. It had been much too long since she’d eaten. She pronged another forkful but stared at it, heaving a sigh. She still had no real idea what to make of Governor Delver. He was a whole mass of contradictions as far as she could see. He’d demonstrated a steely edge underneath that polished surface of his, and was perfectly willing to threaten her at need, but even while he was refusing to explain himself to her, he’d kindly taken the trouble to make sure she ate properly.
“I’ll see you when we depart,” Delver told her, breaking into her thoughts and causing her to give a minute start. He nodded briefly at her, before rising from his chair, and then looking back down at her from a sudden height. “You will do everything Stolley asks until then, I trust?”
Zila frowned up at him. “If I must, I must. You know, you’re a very odd man.”
A brief wave of weariness seemed to pass over him. “So everyone tells me,” he murmured and then that passing shadow was gone, as was he, moments after.
Zila shrugged. Then she helped herself to more Portcallan Bounty and freshly baked bread, because he was right about one thing: there really was no point in being abducted on an empty stomach if she could have breakfast instead.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Tourmaline #1 (cat/mouse)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 1970
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, Portcallan; Zila Fayne, Marran Delver. Carries on from Pawn in Play.
Summary: Zila and the Governor, the morning after.
It took Zila a full minute to remember where she was when she woke, sunlight streaming into the room. It hadn’t helped that she’d barely got a look at anything last night in the dark. She’d been a little drunk as well as too exhausted to worry about being more or less kidnapped, let alone the décor.
She lifted her head from the plump, white pillow and sat up, taking stock of a comfortably sized room, airy and light, with simple but solid furnishings. It was better than most places she’d stayed in, although not quite up to the standards of luxury in which she’d spent the preceding week, but she found that an improvement anyway.
Zila hopped out of bed, scooped up clothes that had been set out on a chair ready, and then tried the two doors. One of them opened into a tiny washroom and the other was locked.
“Well, it is nice to feel wanted,” she muttered, and went off to wash and dress. Maybe if she was quick enough, she could have a go at picking the lock and getting out of here. She wasn’t sure how you picked a lock, but it must be worth a try.
She had no such luck anyhow. She was still in the middle of buttoning up the cuffs of her jacket, when a servant pulled back the door and glided in. He gave a small, polite nod and informed her that the District Governor awaited her presence at breakfast. He made no demands, but waited with definite purpose, until she settled the last button and followed him out.
The uniformed man held open the door to the dining hall. Zila marched in, her nose in the air, but her stomach was churning. Despite some elements of last night that had been very unpleasant, she had enjoyed going back into the main auditorium with Governor Delver and causing a stir. Attracting similar attention seemed much less inviting prospect right now, in a much smaller room full of the Governor’s staff eating breakfast.
However, only a handful of them turned their heads, apparently more interested in the food and their own conversation than Zila. She breathed out and moved forward.
“Imai Fayne.”
Zila stopped at the sound of her name and searched for the speaker, turning until she saw a tall, grey woman rise from her seat.
The woman headed towards her, and then ushered her across towards the main table, where North Eastern’s District Governor was sitting, his head angled away from her, deep in discussion with the serious-looking man next to him.
“Governor,” said the grey woman smoothly, waiting until her employer looked up. “Your guest.”
The note of disapproval in her voice was unmistakable. Zila straightened, determined not to be intimidated. She thanked the woman with all the haughty graciousness she could muster, and then headed over to the empty seat beside the Governor.
“You slept well, I trust?” Delver murmured, as she pulled her chair in closer to the table.
“Hardly got a wink all night. I lay awake and worried the whole time about being abducted by a shady politician.”
She’d slept well for the first time all week, but she wasn’t going to let him know, or let him conclude that, somewhere deep down, she clearly did trust him more than Imor Veldiner.
“I am sorry to hear it,” he returned, voice light and even, and then passed her a cup of ohlflower tea with every show of politeness.
Zila accepted the drink, and then hissed: “Let me go now, or I’ll make a scene.”
The Governor didn’t look at her. He placed his hand over hers, lightly but she felt the warning pressure. “You will not. Otherwise, you’ll find yourself back in Veldiner’s hands – and you made your decision last night. Stick to it, please.”
Zila stared down at the tea, heat rising in her face.
Delver removed his hand and cast a sidelong glance at her. “I didn’t ask you to do what you did, my dear,” he added more softly.
“I still don’t see how that means I should go anywhere with you!” But she kept her voice low. He was right, curse him.
“You want to stay alive,” he said, still carefully casual. “I suggest you eat something, and we keep our conversation to more congenial matters.”
Zila then lifted her head. “Music?”
“If you like,” he began, but halted as a woman to Zila’s left passed her a bowl of fruit.
Zila shook her head, holding up a hand in refusal.
“I suggest you eat something,” the Governor said, watching. “We’ve a long journey ahead of us – and I can’t imagine you ate much last night.”
Between performance nerves and everything that had happened after, Zila hadn’t. She gave a small shake of her head, though. “Please. Just leave me alone.”
“Impossible in the current situation, unfortunately,” he responded, and when she turned towards him he gave a slight smile. “However, in the meantime, if you’ll at least accept some bread and butter, I’ll promise to ignore you for the rest of the morning.”
Zila couldn’t deny the sense in his advice. She didn’t really fancy the idea of trying to starve herself in protest at her situation anyway. She took one of the thick, slice of brown, seeded bread and then spread a fairly generous helping of butter onto it. “Is bread the best you have to offer? And I thought all you Governors lived in luxury!”
“Well,” he said, holding up his hands as if to say, what can one do?, “I am merely a rough north-easterner. But if you want something else, the choice here is perfectly adequate, I assure you.”
Zila pulled a chunk out of her slice of bread and butter with her fingers and ate it, nose in the air in the best haughty manner she could manage while trying not to get grease on her face. “Oh? What do you suggest?”
Amusement lit his face briefly. “Since this is our last day here, have you ever tried Portcallan Bounty? One of the few things about this city I miss when I’m not here.”
Zila raised her eyebrows at the dish of blackish-green vegetable matter, dusted with a light yellow spice of some kind, and swimming in a brown liquid. “I wasn’t asking you to poison me!”
“Not poison. Quite the delicacy, in fact,” he said firmly, passing her the serving spoon. “A type of seaweed, I believe, and its appearance is deceptive.”
She studied his face, but she wasn’t about to back down from his challenge. She took up the spoon and recklessly dished out a large helping onto her plate. “Better die sooner than later, given the way my life is going lately.”
“That’s the spirit. Although you ought to remember there would be consequences for me if anything happens to you. That is rather where our mutual interest lies.”
Zila nodded, quickly. She’d rather avoid thinking about being in danger – better to act as if he was lying, which he still could be. She picked up her fork and took a defiant forkful. It wasn’t bad, actually. Not as salty as she’d anticipated, but with a tang to it and it had been cooked in such a way as to make it crispier than it was slimy. “Not that dreadful,” she conceded, and belied her words by immediately helping herself to another mouthful.
“You don’t trust me,” Delver added in an undertone, shifting back in his chair. He had finished eating. There were only crumbs left on his plate. “I understand. I don’t trust you. But I mean you no harm. I promise I’ll help you to go anywhere you choose to afterwards – as long as it’s well out of Portcallan.”
Zila concentrated on eating and then took as much time as she could to swallow and dab her face with the napkin. Then she turned to him again. “I’d find that so much more comforting if you weren’t abducting me.”
“I am not,” he said. “I gave you a choice. It isn’t my fault the alternative wasn’t very attractive.”
Zila poked at the Portcallan Bounty with her fork and then stabbed a piece of bread instead. “I didn’t exactly get given much choice the first time one of you people made me an offer, either.”
“No. I don’t suppose you did.” His face cleared.
“I’d feel happier if I knew why you’re doing this.”
Delver held up a hand to quiet Zila as the grey woman – Imai Stolley, the Governor’s secretary – crossed over and bent down, addressing him in such a well-practised low tone that even Zila caught hardly any of it, close as she was. “Yes, well, tell him we’re leaving much too early for that. It’s quite impossible,” the Governor responded. As Stolley hurried away again, he glanced back at Zila. “Look, as I said, I can’t afford to trust you yet, either. When and if I feel I can, I’ll explain further.”
“People will think things if we do this.” Zila gestured with her free hand. “Thought you said last night you were taken. Wouldn’t it be better not to make people gossip?”
The Governor laughed. Several members of his staff looked over at them. He took no notice, and leant in towards her. “People always think things, I find. It’s best to ignore them. Although, my dear, given the lengths you claimed to be prepared to go to last night, I’m taken aback that it worries you!”
Zila’s cheeks burned. “That was only before I knew you better. You seemed all right from a distance.”
“Thank you,” he said. The amusement in his eyes made her laugh as well, however unwillingly. The whole thing was ridiculous. That he thought so too, cheered her.
“Too old, though, of course,” Zila added, casting him a wicked look.
Delver grinned. “Oh, quite.” He shook his head. “Well, I will admit I am certainly too old for this! I am sorry about it, you know. Can we both try and make the best of things?”
“Maybe I should have gone with Veldiner.”
“Come, now, you don’t believe that.”
“How do you know?”
He raised an eyebrow and studied her with an amused glint in his eye. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Zila grimaced. There was no answer to that, so she set to work on finishing her breakfast. Now she’d made a start, her appetite was reasserting itself. It had been much too long since she’d eaten. She pronged another forkful but stared at it, heaving a sigh. She still had no real idea what to make of Governor Delver. He was a whole mass of contradictions as far as she could see. He’d demonstrated a steely edge underneath that polished surface of his, and was perfectly willing to threaten her at need, but even while he was refusing to explain himself to her, he’d kindly taken the trouble to make sure she ate properly.
“I’ll see you when we depart,” Delver told her, breaking into her thoughts and causing her to give a minute start. He nodded briefly at her, before rising from his chair, and then looking back down at her from a sudden height. “You will do everything Stolley asks until then, I trust?”
Zila frowned up at him. “If I must, I must. You know, you’re a very odd man.”
A brief wave of weariness seemed to pass over him. “So everyone tells me,” he murmured and then that passing shadow was gone, as was he, moments after.
Zila shrugged. Then she helped herself to more Portcallan Bounty and freshly baked bread, because he was right about one thing: there really was no point in being abducted on an empty stomach if she could have breakfast instead.
no subject
Also I wanna try that seaweed.
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And, yeah, we've a fair bit to learn yet about Marran (and Zila). I need to write some more so that I can stop saying things like that and actually post the stuff, I suppose! <3
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Quite right, too!
This continues to be very intriguing!
no subject