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rainbowfic2023-07-11 02:24 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2023-07-11 02:24 pm
Nacre #11 [Starfall]
Name: Let’s Do Lunch
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #11 (sub rosa)
Supplies and Styles: Novelty Beads (“Paid too little”, frombookblather) + Life-drawing
Word Count: 1447
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, Portcallan; Leion Valerno & Rodern Ylie. (Some more politicking with the High Governor and another new character, except I posted something with him for a CotD piece, but anyway, he’s still around in the present as well as the past.)
Summary: The High Governor does lunch with an old friend. There’s an agenda involved – as always.
“I suggest you come straight to the point.” Rodern Ylie, High Governor of Emoyra raised an eyebrow at the man seated opposite. His voice held the musical timbre of someone who had honed it over years of public speaking, but with a grounding helping of gravel that rarely failed to emphasise his authority. He doubted it would have too much effect on Leion Valerno, though. Not at this late date in their acquaintance.
Leion lowered his fork, still laden with delicate squares of jiahrd, the spiced squid that was Calla’s speciality. “You have no manners, Ylie. I invite you for lunch –”
“Precisely,” said Ylie, fixing Leion with the stare that had made his opponents in the Council Chambers weep – or so other High Councillors sometimes told him. Hyperbole, of course. “You only ever invite me to dine with you when you want something.”
Leion sighed, not noticeably inclined to shake or shed tears under his gaze. “Can we not take a few minutes to enjoy the efforts of one of Portcallan’s finest restaurants and exchange a few pleasantries before you start interrogating me? I am paying. I would at least like to be allowed to appreciate it.” He lifted the fork again, his mouth quirking upwards.
Rodern’s face creased and he wrinkled his nose. “How you eat that stuff, I don’t know. You do realise it’s untransformed?”
Leion, halfway through chewing his mouthful, choked with suppressed laughter. He reached for his napkin. “I forget you stick to the prescribed lists. Honestly, you’ve spent your whole life living in Portcallan and Lighthaven and you’re still squeamish about seafood careless fools like me have been eating for centuries?”
“Being neither careless nor a fool…” Rodern shrugged.
“No, but you are supposed to be the champion of rationalism over superstition, or I’m sure that’s what one of your campaigners told me in the last election. You ought to practice what you preach.”
Rodern shook his head, and turned his attention to his plate of salad, Tamorian bread, and reassuringly bland ussule. “I reserve the right to be cautious when it comes to my stomach. Nevertheless, Leion, my time is short: what do you want?”
“Bluntly?”
“Yes. Briefly, too.”
Leion nodded. He turned over the roasted squares of squid with his fork. “I shall have to co-operate with Tana over my latest inquiry – and first, I want you to let her know she’s not to send her people in and take over.”
“If it concerns her department, maybe she ought to.”
“Yes, well, I don’t have a department, do I?” said Leion. He lifted his head and met Rodern’s look. He held up his hands. “Yes, yes. We’ll come back to that. Allow me to explain – you may recall the trouble we had back in the day with a group with an unhealthy interest in the Boundary Paths?"
Rodern pushed his plate aside, and reached for the ohlflower tea. “If it’s a matter of national security, it is very much Tana’s business.”
“I hope it’s not that bad. I think there’s been enough movement to justify alerting Starfall’s security people – but, of course, I’m not in a position to do that without going through Tana.”
“I thought they arrested the culprit at the time,” said Rodern. “Or am I thinking of a different group?”
“Oh, the bad old days,” Leion said, with a fleeting smile. “Yes and no. They arrested a culprit, but Tana and I both felt it was a case of beheading the weed and leaving the root in place – a particularly deep-seated and troublesome root.”
Rodern shook his head. “If this is about the Allins, you’d better watch your step.”
“I’m always careful.”
“I meant you should be discreet. Or get on and hand the whole affair over to Tana.”
Leion pushed his plate away. He leant in, elbows on the table, letting his chin rest on his hands. “It is precisely the kind of thing you asked me to deal with.” His expression darkened, as did his tone. “Discreetly. Deniably. Another young person with affinity being taken advantage of by unscrupulous types. Tana’s grown much too tidy these days. She doesn’t leave loose ends lying about. I am not here to dispose of the innocent – I will not be used in that way! So, if you care about justice, or compassion, perhaps, and you want me to continue, you’ll allow me to retain control of the affair.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s vital.”
Rodern stood. He hadn’t finished his tea, but his schedule was frantic as usual.
Leion immediately pulled back from the table and followed his example. They navigated their way around the other tables in the select upper floor of the restaurant and went back down the stairs to the entrance. The attendant there, at a prompting cough and small lift of his hand, returned Leion’s coat.
“What are you wearing?”
Leion shrugged into the dark grey coat, and then adjusted it, covering most of the purple lining at which Rodern was glaring. “Must I explain to you yet again the concept of fashion?”
“I thought what you wanted to explain to me yet again was why you should have your own department.”
“The situation calls for it,” said Leion. “I’d say things are changing, but the truth is, I used to be naïve enough to believe this was something we could clean up – one large barrel full of rotten fruit, sorted through and disposed of – and move onto the next problem.”
“And now you’ve found you live in my world, after all.”
“But I’m not in your world, am I? That’s the trouble.” Leion quickened his pace to match Rodern’s. “I’m a mere adviser. But I’m not getting any younger, and these problems aren’t going away. I can’t retain any permanent staff and at times like this, I don’t have set authority or boundaries. Think of it from the other side – I could have simply have ignored the proper channels instead of coming to you.”
Rodern nodded. “I am aware of the issues. But, as you said yourself, I am a proponent of rationalism. I don’t want to encourage the worst abuses of superstition by devoting a whole department to the cursed business.”
“Acknowledging that there are problems in that regard isn’t anything other than rational.” The rough edge in Leion’s voice betrayed underlying anger, although when he spoke again, his tone was lighter, more even: “Besides which, I grow older, and I have a family to support. I wouldn’t mind a little security – and a pension.”
“And to leap ahead of a dozen high-ranking secretaries and the like to become head of sub-department in the High Chamber Offices.”
Leion only smiled. “An unavoidable side-effect, High Governor, although I won’t deny I think I’d cut quite a dash walking down the corridors of power. After all these years – imagine it!”
“I have been discussing the matter; I can’t answer you here. Leave it with me.”
“And Tana?”
“Send me the file, and we’ll see.”
“It’s already with your private secretary.”
Rodern halted and turned towards the river. The wind was mild, but it whipped his jacket about him. Autumn was setting in; there was a damp salt tang in the air. The tide of the year was turning again. “Of course it is.”
“I’m serious. On both counts.”
Rodern had known Leion long enough not to doubt that, whatever more frivolous side he presented to most of Portcallan high society.
“Even Tana agrees with me about the department. She’s been thinking up some charmingly euphemistic names for it, although I told her we ought to call it Department of the Starstone-Accursed or the Ministry for Investigations Into the Uncanny.”
“I’m sure she liked that.” Rodern gave the river one last look, and started walking again. “I’ll do what I can. On both counts – though I’ll make no rash promises.”
“I’d be shocked if you did.” Leion moved to the side; preparing to take the road that forked away from the way to the High Chambers. “Thank you, Rodern. This is why it’s worth the cost to take you out from time to time.”
Rodern paused to watch him walk away. All that, and, of course, the trouble with even people like Leion was that he could never be sure of the answer to that question: what did he want? What he asked for outright, or something hidden between the lines?
It had been a decent lunch, however, and too long since he’d seen Leion, so there was that. Rodern gave the sky a shrug, and headed back up to Chamber Square before someone came after him to tell him the world was ending again.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #11 (sub rosa)
Supplies and Styles: Novelty Beads (“Paid too little”, from
bookblather) + Life-drawingWord Count: 1447
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, Portcallan; Leion Valerno & Rodern Ylie. (Some more politicking with the High Governor and another new character, except I posted something with him for a CotD piece, but anyway, he’s still around in the present as well as the past.)
Summary: The High Governor does lunch with an old friend. There’s an agenda involved – as always.
“I suggest you come straight to the point.” Rodern Ylie, High Governor of Emoyra raised an eyebrow at the man seated opposite. His voice held the musical timbre of someone who had honed it over years of public speaking, but with a grounding helping of gravel that rarely failed to emphasise his authority. He doubted it would have too much effect on Leion Valerno, though. Not at this late date in their acquaintance.
Leion lowered his fork, still laden with delicate squares of jiahrd, the spiced squid that was Calla’s speciality. “You have no manners, Ylie. I invite you for lunch –”
“Precisely,” said Ylie, fixing Leion with the stare that had made his opponents in the Council Chambers weep – or so other High Councillors sometimes told him. Hyperbole, of course. “You only ever invite me to dine with you when you want something.”
Leion sighed, not noticeably inclined to shake or shed tears under his gaze. “Can we not take a few minutes to enjoy the efforts of one of Portcallan’s finest restaurants and exchange a few pleasantries before you start interrogating me? I am paying. I would at least like to be allowed to appreciate it.” He lifted the fork again, his mouth quirking upwards.
Rodern’s face creased and he wrinkled his nose. “How you eat that stuff, I don’t know. You do realise it’s untransformed?”
Leion, halfway through chewing his mouthful, choked with suppressed laughter. He reached for his napkin. “I forget you stick to the prescribed lists. Honestly, you’ve spent your whole life living in Portcallan and Lighthaven and you’re still squeamish about seafood careless fools like me have been eating for centuries?”
“Being neither careless nor a fool…” Rodern shrugged.
“No, but you are supposed to be the champion of rationalism over superstition, or I’m sure that’s what one of your campaigners told me in the last election. You ought to practice what you preach.”
Rodern shook his head, and turned his attention to his plate of salad, Tamorian bread, and reassuringly bland ussule. “I reserve the right to be cautious when it comes to my stomach. Nevertheless, Leion, my time is short: what do you want?”
“Bluntly?”
“Yes. Briefly, too.”
Leion nodded. He turned over the roasted squares of squid with his fork. “I shall have to co-operate with Tana over my latest inquiry – and first, I want you to let her know she’s not to send her people in and take over.”
“If it concerns her department, maybe she ought to.”
“Yes, well, I don’t have a department, do I?” said Leion. He lifted his head and met Rodern’s look. He held up his hands. “Yes, yes. We’ll come back to that. Allow me to explain – you may recall the trouble we had back in the day with a group with an unhealthy interest in the Boundary Paths?"
Rodern pushed his plate aside, and reached for the ohlflower tea. “If it’s a matter of national security, it is very much Tana’s business.”
“I hope it’s not that bad. I think there’s been enough movement to justify alerting Starfall’s security people – but, of course, I’m not in a position to do that without going through Tana.”
“I thought they arrested the culprit at the time,” said Rodern. “Or am I thinking of a different group?”
“Oh, the bad old days,” Leion said, with a fleeting smile. “Yes and no. They arrested a culprit, but Tana and I both felt it was a case of beheading the weed and leaving the root in place – a particularly deep-seated and troublesome root.”
Rodern shook his head. “If this is about the Allins, you’d better watch your step.”
“I’m always careful.”
“I meant you should be discreet. Or get on and hand the whole affair over to Tana.”
Leion pushed his plate away. He leant in, elbows on the table, letting his chin rest on his hands. “It is precisely the kind of thing you asked me to deal with.” His expression darkened, as did his tone. “Discreetly. Deniably. Another young person with affinity being taken advantage of by unscrupulous types. Tana’s grown much too tidy these days. She doesn’t leave loose ends lying about. I am not here to dispose of the innocent – I will not be used in that way! So, if you care about justice, or compassion, perhaps, and you want me to continue, you’ll allow me to retain control of the affair.”
“Is that all?”
“It’s vital.”
Rodern stood. He hadn’t finished his tea, but his schedule was frantic as usual.
Leion immediately pulled back from the table and followed his example. They navigated their way around the other tables in the select upper floor of the restaurant and went back down the stairs to the entrance. The attendant there, at a prompting cough and small lift of his hand, returned Leion’s coat.
“What are you wearing?”
Leion shrugged into the dark grey coat, and then adjusted it, covering most of the purple lining at which Rodern was glaring. “Must I explain to you yet again the concept of fashion?”
“I thought what you wanted to explain to me yet again was why you should have your own department.”
“The situation calls for it,” said Leion. “I’d say things are changing, but the truth is, I used to be naïve enough to believe this was something we could clean up – one large barrel full of rotten fruit, sorted through and disposed of – and move onto the next problem.”
“And now you’ve found you live in my world, after all.”
“But I’m not in your world, am I? That’s the trouble.” Leion quickened his pace to match Rodern’s. “I’m a mere adviser. But I’m not getting any younger, and these problems aren’t going away. I can’t retain any permanent staff and at times like this, I don’t have set authority or boundaries. Think of it from the other side – I could have simply have ignored the proper channels instead of coming to you.”
Rodern nodded. “I am aware of the issues. But, as you said yourself, I am a proponent of rationalism. I don’t want to encourage the worst abuses of superstition by devoting a whole department to the cursed business.”
“Acknowledging that there are problems in that regard isn’t anything other than rational.” The rough edge in Leion’s voice betrayed underlying anger, although when he spoke again, his tone was lighter, more even: “Besides which, I grow older, and I have a family to support. I wouldn’t mind a little security – and a pension.”
“And to leap ahead of a dozen high-ranking secretaries and the like to become head of sub-department in the High Chamber Offices.”
Leion only smiled. “An unavoidable side-effect, High Governor, although I won’t deny I think I’d cut quite a dash walking down the corridors of power. After all these years – imagine it!”
“I have been discussing the matter; I can’t answer you here. Leave it with me.”
“And Tana?”
“Send me the file, and we’ll see.”
“It’s already with your private secretary.”
Rodern halted and turned towards the river. The wind was mild, but it whipped his jacket about him. Autumn was setting in; there was a damp salt tang in the air. The tide of the year was turning again. “Of course it is.”
“I’m serious. On both counts.”
Rodern had known Leion long enough not to doubt that, whatever more frivolous side he presented to most of Portcallan high society.
“Even Tana agrees with me about the department. She’s been thinking up some charmingly euphemistic names for it, although I told her we ought to call it Department of the Starstone-Accursed or the Ministry for Investigations Into the Uncanny.”
“I’m sure she liked that.” Rodern gave the river one last look, and started walking again. “I’ll do what I can. On both counts – though I’ll make no rash promises.”
“I’d be shocked if you did.” Leion moved to the side; preparing to take the road that forked away from the way to the High Chambers. “Thank you, Rodern. This is why it’s worth the cost to take you out from time to time.”
Rodern paused to watch him walk away. All that, and, of course, the trouble with even people like Leion was that he could never be sure of the answer to that question: what did he want? What he asked for outright, or something hidden between the lines?
It had been a decent lunch, however, and too long since he’d seen Leion, so there was that. Rodern gave the sky a shrug, and headed back up to Chamber Square before someone came after him to tell him the world was ending again.