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rainbowfic2024-07-09 08:48 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-07-09 08:48 pm
Entry tags:
Light Black #17 [Starfall]
Name: Public Faces in Private Places
Story: Starfall
Colors: Light Black #17 (Lose)
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 1305
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1329, North Eastern District; Marran Delver, Sharrander Colwell.
Summary: Marran faces a painful choice.
Marran Delver, newly elected Governor of North Eastern District put aside the blue jacket and grey and green belt, and instead donned a more nondescript grey coat and trousers. That done, he walked through the city of Old Ralston and out of its gates without fanfare or ceremony. His election was recent enough that he trusted there wasn't yet too much danger of being recognised, and the few people who passed by, on foot, or driving carts, paid him no more attention than anyone else on the road. (The road, he noted, could use some repair. He could see to that. He straightened his stance and quickened his steps at the thought.)
He stopped an hour or so later at a small wayside inn. A man bustled out of the door, narrowing avoiding Marran as he tried to get inside; fussing around, pulling on gloves in a hurry to be elsewhere and not even raising his gaze as he roughly elbowed his way past the District's new governor. Marran lowered his head at the low door to enter, and down a small half-flight of stairs to the bar-room. Nobody looked up, everyone intent on their conversations, games, and business deals, or merely their drinks. A gleam of humour passed over his face. He might not be welcome if some of these people knew who he was.
He had requested this interview four years ago when he had become Commander of the Fort, but he had been flatly denied it. Did Marran want, Sharrander Colwell had written in reply, to break the terms of their legal agreement and lose what little rights he had on this matter? Did he want to begin his term in office with a scandal?
Marran’s mouth tightened. Well, he was no longer new to high office, and he was not to be put off by threats and insinuations this time. He searched the room for Colwell, and couldn’t see him until a man with greying, curly hair and light brown skin rose stiffly. Marran halted, watching him start towards him. He remembered Sharrander Colwell as taller and bulkier—but it had been thirteen years. The man must be heading for seventy if he wasn’t there already. Marran moved across and gave him the short nod in greeting. He knew better than to offer him his hand.
“So,” said Sharrander. “You want to see Laonna, do you?”
Despite all Marran's rehearsals for this moment, words deserted him. He clenched his fists, struggling with himself before he could speak. “We only made our agreement because you thought I was a liability—someone from whom you had to protect Laonna. You can’t possibly still consider that to be the case now I’m District Governor. I'll accept any conditions you like, but let me see her.
“You left it long enough.”
“You didn't even answer my requests!” Marran caught his breath and checked himself. “I’ve never stopped writing, never stopped asking. So have the rest of my family. Come on—be reasonable!”
Sharrander sighed and sat down, gesturing for Marran to do the same. Marran did, but slowly, unwilling to concede the high ground.
“Marran. It’s simple. Laonna is old enough to make up her own mind. She knows your name—the whole district knows who you are now, and where to find you. If she wanted to see you, how could I stop her? You’d have found her waiting outside your office weeks ago. She chose not to have anything to do with you. She is well. She is happy. All you can do is respect that choice and leave her alone. Coming back, disrupting her life—that is only selfishness.”
“What about her aunt, her grandmother?” asked Marran. “Even if you won’t permit me back into her life, there’s no reason to punish them. Shara's tears! It would make my mother so happy to see Laonna again. And my sister—she’s an Aliate, not someone you've any excuse for excluding from her life.”
Sharrander met his gaze, face unreadable. “It’s Laonna’s decision.”
A scarlet spike of anger ran through Marran. “Her decision?” he snapped, leaning forward. “When you’ve poisoned her against me all her life? What do you tell her about me, I wonder? Let us meet, just once! If she doesn’t want anything more to do with me after that, then so be it.”
“I’ve only ever told her the truth—you're reckless—selfish. I don't care what you want! You destroyed my daughter—do you think I’ll let you do the same to my granddaughter?”
Marran rose sharply. “I don’t know how you can sit there and say that. Telo died of a fever. If it was anyone’s fault, it was yours—the last thing I’d have done even then was packed her off to stay in one of the alionrel districts!”
“Whatever the case,” said Sharrander after an unsteady pause, people around them shooting the disapproving looks, “it’s up to you, isn’t it, Governor? Are you going to use your new power to swoop in and steal my grandchild?”
“You might have noticed, but I came here quite deliberately as Marran, nothing more. Of course I'm not.”
“No such animal as only Marran Delver any more—Governor. What do you mean to do, with all your people, all those armed guards? Threaten Ianna and me?”
Marran stared down at the old man. His forehead creased. “No.” He swallowed down his anger, ignored the bitter taste of it, and sat again slowly. He leant forward, hands on the table, “Imai Colwell, please. I’m asking you to let me see my daughter.”
“It’s up to Laonna,” Sharrander insisted. “If she asks for you, then you may. Otherwise—it’s a worse idea now than ever. Let her be—let her continue to have a normal life, well away from the political circus. She'll see you in time, I'm sure, no matter what I'd prefer. You're going to be difficult to ignore.”
Sharrander stood. He gave Marran a short nod, and waited there on his feet for a few moments in case Marran had anything further to say, and then walked out without another word. Marran remained, nursing the hot drink the inn's host brought him.
He leaned his head against his hand and sighed; let his mind stray into fantasies—he would send out the guards—have that sea-shitting draper forced to bring Laonna to him. He heaved another sigh and shifted position; the idea dying away too quickly. It was out of the question. He let himself imagine instead—he’d take the Colwells to court and tear all their petty objections to pieces. Then he drew back again. He couldn't do that either. What a way to begin his first term—every last newsletter shrieking about the District Governor persecuting a couple of country drapers, trying to rob them of their granddaughter. And if it started there, where would it end?
“I could stand down,” he said under his breath, trying out the idea. He could resign. He could get Laonna back, then. Private individuals could take someone to court, and any judge worth their office would surely agree that the Colwells had stretched that original agreement so thin it was already broken.
But he’d offered himself up as a candidate, a public servant to this District, first as Commander, and now as Governor. It was a promise to try and do something that mattered for North Eastern. The movement to oppose the alionrel industry’s abuses was gathering momentum and means in a way it never had before. Someone had to take hold of that and push it further. If he let everyone down, the next Governor might, or they might not. Marran pushed his mug away, grey eyes clouded and stormy.
It was going to be a long walk back.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Light Black #17 (Lose)
Supplies and Styles: Canvas
Word Count: 1305
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Notes: 1329, North Eastern District; Marran Delver, Sharrander Colwell.
Summary: Marran faces a painful choice.
Marran Delver, newly elected Governor of North Eastern District put aside the blue jacket and grey and green belt, and instead donned a more nondescript grey coat and trousers. That done, he walked through the city of Old Ralston and out of its gates without fanfare or ceremony. His election was recent enough that he trusted there wasn't yet too much danger of being recognised, and the few people who passed by, on foot, or driving carts, paid him no more attention than anyone else on the road. (The road, he noted, could use some repair. He could see to that. He straightened his stance and quickened his steps at the thought.)
He stopped an hour or so later at a small wayside inn. A man bustled out of the door, narrowing avoiding Marran as he tried to get inside; fussing around, pulling on gloves in a hurry to be elsewhere and not even raising his gaze as he roughly elbowed his way past the District's new governor. Marran lowered his head at the low door to enter, and down a small half-flight of stairs to the bar-room. Nobody looked up, everyone intent on their conversations, games, and business deals, or merely their drinks. A gleam of humour passed over his face. He might not be welcome if some of these people knew who he was.
He had requested this interview four years ago when he had become Commander of the Fort, but he had been flatly denied it. Did Marran want, Sharrander Colwell had written in reply, to break the terms of their legal agreement and lose what little rights he had on this matter? Did he want to begin his term in office with a scandal?
Marran’s mouth tightened. Well, he was no longer new to high office, and he was not to be put off by threats and insinuations this time. He searched the room for Colwell, and couldn’t see him until a man with greying, curly hair and light brown skin rose stiffly. Marran halted, watching him start towards him. He remembered Sharrander Colwell as taller and bulkier—but it had been thirteen years. The man must be heading for seventy if he wasn’t there already. Marran moved across and gave him the short nod in greeting. He knew better than to offer him his hand.
“So,” said Sharrander. “You want to see Laonna, do you?”
Despite all Marran's rehearsals for this moment, words deserted him. He clenched his fists, struggling with himself before he could speak. “We only made our agreement because you thought I was a liability—someone from whom you had to protect Laonna. You can’t possibly still consider that to be the case now I’m District Governor. I'll accept any conditions you like, but let me see her.
“You left it long enough.”
“You didn't even answer my requests!” Marran caught his breath and checked himself. “I’ve never stopped writing, never stopped asking. So have the rest of my family. Come on—be reasonable!”
Sharrander sighed and sat down, gesturing for Marran to do the same. Marran did, but slowly, unwilling to concede the high ground.
“Marran. It’s simple. Laonna is old enough to make up her own mind. She knows your name—the whole district knows who you are now, and where to find you. If she wanted to see you, how could I stop her? You’d have found her waiting outside your office weeks ago. She chose not to have anything to do with you. She is well. She is happy. All you can do is respect that choice and leave her alone. Coming back, disrupting her life—that is only selfishness.”
“What about her aunt, her grandmother?” asked Marran. “Even if you won’t permit me back into her life, there’s no reason to punish them. Shara's tears! It would make my mother so happy to see Laonna again. And my sister—she’s an Aliate, not someone you've any excuse for excluding from her life.”
Sharrander met his gaze, face unreadable. “It’s Laonna’s decision.”
A scarlet spike of anger ran through Marran. “Her decision?” he snapped, leaning forward. “When you’ve poisoned her against me all her life? What do you tell her about me, I wonder? Let us meet, just once! If she doesn’t want anything more to do with me after that, then so be it.”
“I’ve only ever told her the truth—you're reckless—selfish. I don't care what you want! You destroyed my daughter—do you think I’ll let you do the same to my granddaughter?”
Marran rose sharply. “I don’t know how you can sit there and say that. Telo died of a fever. If it was anyone’s fault, it was yours—the last thing I’d have done even then was packed her off to stay in one of the alionrel districts!”
“Whatever the case,” said Sharrander after an unsteady pause, people around them shooting the disapproving looks, “it’s up to you, isn’t it, Governor? Are you going to use your new power to swoop in and steal my grandchild?”
“You might have noticed, but I came here quite deliberately as Marran, nothing more. Of course I'm not.”
“No such animal as only Marran Delver any more—Governor. What do you mean to do, with all your people, all those armed guards? Threaten Ianna and me?”
Marran stared down at the old man. His forehead creased. “No.” He swallowed down his anger, ignored the bitter taste of it, and sat again slowly. He leant forward, hands on the table, “Imai Colwell, please. I’m asking you to let me see my daughter.”
“It’s up to Laonna,” Sharrander insisted. “If she asks for you, then you may. Otherwise—it’s a worse idea now than ever. Let her be—let her continue to have a normal life, well away from the political circus. She'll see you in time, I'm sure, no matter what I'd prefer. You're going to be difficult to ignore.”
Sharrander stood. He gave Marran a short nod, and waited there on his feet for a few moments in case Marran had anything further to say, and then walked out without another word. Marran remained, nursing the hot drink the inn's host brought him.
He leaned his head against his hand and sighed; let his mind stray into fantasies—he would send out the guards—have that sea-shitting draper forced to bring Laonna to him. He heaved another sigh and shifted position; the idea dying away too quickly. It was out of the question. He let himself imagine instead—he’d take the Colwells to court and tear all their petty objections to pieces. Then he drew back again. He couldn't do that either. What a way to begin his first term—every last newsletter shrieking about the District Governor persecuting a couple of country drapers, trying to rob them of their granddaughter. And if it started there, where would it end?
“I could stand down,” he said under his breath, trying out the idea. He could resign. He could get Laonna back, then. Private individuals could take someone to court, and any judge worth their office would surely agree that the Colwells had stretched that original agreement so thin it was already broken.
But he’d offered himself up as a candidate, a public servant to this District, first as Commander, and now as Governor. It was a promise to try and do something that mattered for North Eastern. The movement to oppose the alionrel industry’s abuses was gathering momentum and means in a way it never had before. Someone had to take hold of that and push it further. If he let everyone down, the next Governor might, or they might not. Marran pushed his mug away, grey eyes clouded and stormy.
It was going to be a long walk back.
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A+ microexpressions even when not actually described. I am glad to see him again, even when he isn't happy.
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I can wait. I really like these stories which you write.
(You should still get the option of an energetic doppelgänger secretary, though. Such a situation couldn't possibly go wrong.)
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XD Ha, yes, you're quite right; that's not at all the sort of thing that leads to starring in a morality fable or a horror story!
ETA: I can wait. I really like these stories which you write.
Also thank you. ♥ ♥ ♥
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Psst! Couple of beta notes:
If she wanted to see you, how I could I stop her?
That first I is extraneous.
He let himself imagine instead—he’d take the Colwells to court and tears all their petty objections to pieces.
Tear not tears.
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I keep meaning to ask - is there a way to track your stories here, so I don't have to wait for you to cross-post to your own DW journal?
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https://rainbowfic.dreamwidth.org/tag/story:+starfall
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Bluesky and Tumblr now.
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That is a really rough decision. I can't blame Marren for the one he did make.
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