thisbluespirit (
thisbluespirit) wrote in
rainbowfic2023-09-24 08:15 pm
Entry tags:
Nacre #14 [Starfall]
Name: Wayside Moment
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #14 (safe)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 653
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, on the road from Portcallan to Old Ralston; Zila Fayne, Marran Delver.
Summary: The Governor captures Zila all over again.
“Tell me, what do you call this?”
Zila jumped as Governor Delver pressed four sheets of paper full of her own handwriting down on the table in front of her. She drew back, and tried to regain ground with a careless shrug. “My report for Veldiner. Like you asked me to write.”
“You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Marran Delver said. He moved aside the ornate brass stand that held a lightstone lamp, and reached for the paper. Zila’s energetic, slanting script floated in front of her eyes again, before he picked it up, cast her a glance and proceeded to scan through it. “You’ve detailed every last stop we made by road and river – meals – could you not have described the curtains in each inn while you were at it?”
Zila shifted on the wooden chair. “It’d keep Veldiner’s people busy with nothing.”
“We want her to forget you,” Delver reminded her. He folded the sheets with a practised hand and then tore them in two, sliding the remains across the table to her. He leant against the window ledge, catching the edge of the curtains (plain burgundy in this case). “Annoying her won’t help.”
Zila collected the bits of paper and tidied them into a pile. She fingered the torn edges. “I could do worse – what if I actually did what she asked?”
“There is nothing you can tell her that can do her any good or me any harm. I said to confound her; that’s not the same thing as aggravating her. She’s too dangerous for that.”
Zila screw up the paper with an exaggerated sigh. “All right, all right. I’ll do as you say. Again,” she added, shooting a dark look up at him.
“Governor,” called one of his secretaries, or whatever this one was, from the other side of the inn’s private sitting room. Geana, Zila thought she was called.
Delver lifted his head and removed himself from the window. “Please do,” he said to Zila, while nodding to Geana to show that he’d heard her.
“I still don’t see what you want with me,” said Zila.
He laughed. “I don’t want you at all, my dear. You threw yourself into this. I’m just trying to extricate you – and me, for that matter – from the mess we’d have been in if Veldiner had had her way with both of us.”
“Everybody wants something,” said Zila.
His face creased, and the gleam of amusement faded away. “True, but please believe me when I say that at the moment we merely have a mutual wish to see you remain alive. If you want to feel you’re paying your way, you could sing for us all downstairs tonight. I did mention to the innkeeper that it might be possible.”
“Hmm,” said Zila, putting her chin on her hands. It didn’t seem wise to leap up and say yes, but sneaking a glance upwards caught the slight curve of his mouth that suggested that he knew what her reply would be. “I suppose I could, if you insist. Although I do have a report to complete.”
“A very brief one.”
Zila nodded. “My pleasure, then, Governor.”
“No, no,” he murmured as he turned away, towards Geana who had given up waiting and was making her way over. “Everyone else’s, I assure you. I have heard you perform before, don’t forget.”
Zila watched him go, and pulled a face at his retreating back when she was sure he wasn’t looking. Geana was, though, and her eyes widened momentarily, before she turned her gaze away.
The Governor had played her like a fiddle again, while she hadn’t the first idea in the wide empty world how he worked or what he was after in bringing her all this way. She was even beginning to believe that he really was trying to keep her safe, and that must be the unlikeliest thing of all.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #14 (safe)
Supplies and Styles:
Word Count: 653
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1337, on the road from Portcallan to Old Ralston; Zila Fayne, Marran Delver.
Summary: The Governor captures Zila all over again.
“Tell me, what do you call this?”
Zila jumped as Governor Delver pressed four sheets of paper full of her own handwriting down on the table in front of her. She drew back, and tried to regain ground with a careless shrug. “My report for Veldiner. Like you asked me to write.”
“You have no sense of self-preservation, do you?” Marran Delver said. He moved aside the ornate brass stand that held a lightstone lamp, and reached for the paper. Zila’s energetic, slanting script floated in front of her eyes again, before he picked it up, cast her a glance and proceeded to scan through it. “You’ve detailed every last stop we made by road and river – meals – could you not have described the curtains in each inn while you were at it?”
Zila shifted on the wooden chair. “It’d keep Veldiner’s people busy with nothing.”
“We want her to forget you,” Delver reminded her. He folded the sheets with a practised hand and then tore them in two, sliding the remains across the table to her. He leant against the window ledge, catching the edge of the curtains (plain burgundy in this case). “Annoying her won’t help.”
Zila collected the bits of paper and tidied them into a pile. She fingered the torn edges. “I could do worse – what if I actually did what she asked?”
“There is nothing you can tell her that can do her any good or me any harm. I said to confound her; that’s not the same thing as aggravating her. She’s too dangerous for that.”
Zila screw up the paper with an exaggerated sigh. “All right, all right. I’ll do as you say. Again,” she added, shooting a dark look up at him.
“Governor,” called one of his secretaries, or whatever this one was, from the other side of the inn’s private sitting room. Geana, Zila thought she was called.
Delver lifted his head and removed himself from the window. “Please do,” he said to Zila, while nodding to Geana to show that he’d heard her.
“I still don’t see what you want with me,” said Zila.
He laughed. “I don’t want you at all, my dear. You threw yourself into this. I’m just trying to extricate you – and me, for that matter – from the mess we’d have been in if Veldiner had had her way with both of us.”
“Everybody wants something,” said Zila.
His face creased, and the gleam of amusement faded away. “True, but please believe me when I say that at the moment we merely have a mutual wish to see you remain alive. If you want to feel you’re paying your way, you could sing for us all downstairs tonight. I did mention to the innkeeper that it might be possible.”
“Hmm,” said Zila, putting her chin on her hands. It didn’t seem wise to leap up and say yes, but sneaking a glance upwards caught the slight curve of his mouth that suggested that he knew what her reply would be. “I suppose I could, if you insist. Although I do have a report to complete.”
“A very brief one.”
Zila nodded. “My pleasure, then, Governor.”
“No, no,” he murmured as he turned away, towards Geana who had given up waiting and was making her way over. “Everyone else’s, I assure you. I have heard you perform before, don’t forget.”
Zila watched him go, and pulled a face at his retreating back when she was sure he wasn’t looking. Geana was, though, and her eyes widened momentarily, before she turned her gaze away.
The Governor had played her like a fiddle again, while she hadn’t the first idea in the wide empty world how he worked or what he was after in bringing her all this way. She was even beginning to believe that he really was trying to keep her safe, and that must be the unlikeliest thing of all.

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