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rainbowfic2012-10-03 04:03 pm
kay_brooke) wrote in rainbowfic2012-10-03 04:03 pm
Harvest Gold #15, Screaming Green #1, Ember #10
Name: kay_brooke
Story: The Myrrosta
Colors: Harvest Gold #15 (nothing gold can stay), Screaming Green #1 (I'm a heroine addict. I need to have sex with women who have saved someone's life), Ember #10 (drawn to the flame)
Styles/Supplies: N/A
Word Count: 1,278
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Notes: A brief and temporary return to The Myrrosta. Blame the prompt. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
"I saved your life from four different assassins tonight."
Atro, still a little weak from the events of the previous month and drooping in his chair as the night lengthened, said, "Did you?"
"I did," Jay affirmed. One hand strayed toward her weapons belt, an unconscious gesture. "The hooded man with the face scar, first. Clearly hiding a sword at his side, though weapons were forbidden at the ceremony."
"Everyone who entered was checked for weapons," said Atro. Usually he liked to listen to Jay talk, even when she was blathering on about something ridiculous. But tonight he was too tired even for that. His Proclamation Ceremony was over, and he was, finally, the rightful Councilor of the city. Directly supported by the Emperor, even. He had fought so long for this night that it was disappointing he felt nothing but tired. The fire he had started at the Court had left him bedridden for days, and though he felt almost normal again, the exertion of showing a strong front during the interminable ceremony had taken its toll.
Tomorrow, maybe, he would feel the elation he felt he was entitled to.
"I did not personally oversee the searching of that man." Jay wasn't going to give up.
"Your guards did," Atro pointed out. "The ones you chose for the job." He wondered if he could get away with sleeping in his chair. Probably not; though the Courtyard was empty now, there were always those passing by. And while Jay could intimidate any of her guardsmen away from gossiping about the seeming weakness of their new Councilor, one never knew who might be watching. Lindjer was dead, Mynlai and Railohn disappeared and hopefully gone the same way as their benefactor. The Court had been routed of all his enemies. But Atro knew better than to believe that.
Jay shrugged, a curiously casual gesture from her. "I assure you, all the men I had posted at the gate will be well interrogated tomorrow. I will find the one who let the man pass and dismiss him from service."
Atro thought he should probably care more about Jay dismissing his guards for possibly spurious reasons, but he just let her words wash over him. There was something entrancing about the way she looked in the dying torchlight, a fieriness to her blond hair he had never noticed before, the definition of the muscles in her arm thrown into stark relief against the shifting shadows.
"The second was only a child," Jay continued, oblivious to the way Atro was staring at her with big, wet eyes. "An orphan, probably, desperate enough to agree to murder the Councilor in exchange for bread."
Atro blinked. "You think someone sent a child after me?" Jay just looked at him, and he remembered that she herself had been trained as a spy and assassin from the time she was six. But that was only an odd Nikolean tradition, not something one saw in more civilized nations. Still, there had been Railohn, and though he was a salkiy he had successfully fooled many people for over a year. "I hardly think a starving orphan would have the wherewithal to kill me."
"Indeed," said Jay. "Which is how I caught her so easily."
"Her?"
"She would not admit to anything." Jay probably hadn't even heard his exclamation. "All I could do was deposit her outside the gate. I found no weapons on her, though perhaps she had a poison stashed somewhere. I will have the grounds thoroughly searched at first sunrise, I promise you."
"That's not necessary--"
Jay held up her hand. Actually held up her hand to the Councilor she had sworn fealty to. Atro bit back a retort. This was Jay. That was just how she was. She didn't mean any disrespect by it
"The third was a well-dressed nobleman with his arm in a sash," she said. "He was very near the front of the crowd, in a deep blue doublet decorated with a ram. I am surprised you did not catch him yourself."
Atro had indeed seen the man she was talking about. "That was Lord Keyn," he said with a sigh. He had noticed the man had disappeared halfway through the ceremony, though at the time he had thought little of it. He hoped Jay didn't hurt him too badly. "He was one who helped us win the rebellion. He is no enemy of mine."
Jay frowned. "He was not among your fellow rebels."
"He never spoke to us directly," said Atro. "You probably just don't remember him."
"I remember every face at that camp."
"Then maybe he wasn't there when you were." Atro rubbed his face. There was no choice; he was going to have to get up at some point and make his way inside to his own chambers. Hopefully without looking like an invalid in the process. "Why did you suspect him?"
"He was watching you with a narrow glare."
"He was squinting. He has poor eyesight." Atro braced himself and stood up. "What did you do with him?"
Jay was silent long enough that Atro thought maybe she actually regretted her actions. "The prison," she finally said.
"Have him released immediately," said Atro. "No, not tomorrow. Now. I plan to make him an advisor, and a night in the prison is hardly a good first impression."
Jay stiffened slightly, gave a very short bow, and said, "As you will."
She had lowered her eyes, and for some reason that made Atro feel like he had been cast adrift in an endless, cold ocean. "Look at me," he said.
She, of course, obeyed immediately, her deep green eyes as arrogant as ever, but the thrill he felt--those eyes were his, that long golden hair, that lithe form, every piece of defiance in that compact, deadly body. All his, because she had sworn fealty. He wondered how far he could push his ownership, if all he had to do was ask and she would come to him, share the bed that was still awaiting an impossible distance away. He would stay awake, for that.
Or would she laugh at him, deny him? And would he bear that humiliation? Would he be more or less a lord if he allowed her the insubordination?
"My lord," she said, just the hint of a question at the end. He was staring at her again, and he shook his head. He hated how those words sounded from her mouth: perfectly acceptable in the presence of relevant company, but wrong here in the dark, him nearly falling over from exhaustion while the torches sputtered their last and the night birds settled down for sleep. His ownership was a daylight fiction. At night they each only owned themselves, and he would not insult her by even asking.
"Who was the fourth?" he said, because she had stopped at three.
She gave him a tight smile. "I did not see a fourth. That does not mean there was not one."
"What would you have done if he had struck?"
"Protected you, of course," said Jay. "Is it still my lord's wish that I go to the prison? Or do you need my help in getting to bed?"
He nearly choked on his next words. "The prison, please, Jay. Quickly."
Another bow, and she was gone.
Clutching the arm of his chair, Atro looked for his bedchamber window, a tiny patch of dark against the stone walls of the Private Hall, and began his long journey toward it.
kay_brookeStory: The Myrrosta
Colors: Harvest Gold #15 (nothing gold can stay), Screaming Green #1 (I'm a heroine addict. I need to have sex with women who have saved someone's life), Ember #10 (drawn to the flame)
Styles/Supplies: N/A
Word Count: 1,278
Rating/Warnings: PG-13; no standard warnings apply
Notes: A brief and temporary return to The Myrrosta. Blame the prompt. Constructive criticism is welcome, either through comments or PM.
"I saved your life from four different assassins tonight."
Atro, still a little weak from the events of the previous month and drooping in his chair as the night lengthened, said, "Did you?"
"I did," Jay affirmed. One hand strayed toward her weapons belt, an unconscious gesture. "The hooded man with the face scar, first. Clearly hiding a sword at his side, though weapons were forbidden at the ceremony."
"Everyone who entered was checked for weapons," said Atro. Usually he liked to listen to Jay talk, even when she was blathering on about something ridiculous. But tonight he was too tired even for that. His Proclamation Ceremony was over, and he was, finally, the rightful Councilor of the city. Directly supported by the Emperor, even. He had fought so long for this night that it was disappointing he felt nothing but tired. The fire he had started at the Court had left him bedridden for days, and though he felt almost normal again, the exertion of showing a strong front during the interminable ceremony had taken its toll.
Tomorrow, maybe, he would feel the elation he felt he was entitled to.
"I did not personally oversee the searching of that man." Jay wasn't going to give up.
"Your guards did," Atro pointed out. "The ones you chose for the job." He wondered if he could get away with sleeping in his chair. Probably not; though the Courtyard was empty now, there were always those passing by. And while Jay could intimidate any of her guardsmen away from gossiping about the seeming weakness of their new Councilor, one never knew who might be watching. Lindjer was dead, Mynlai and Railohn disappeared and hopefully gone the same way as their benefactor. The Court had been routed of all his enemies. But Atro knew better than to believe that.
Jay shrugged, a curiously casual gesture from her. "I assure you, all the men I had posted at the gate will be well interrogated tomorrow. I will find the one who let the man pass and dismiss him from service."
Atro thought he should probably care more about Jay dismissing his guards for possibly spurious reasons, but he just let her words wash over him. There was something entrancing about the way she looked in the dying torchlight, a fieriness to her blond hair he had never noticed before, the definition of the muscles in her arm thrown into stark relief against the shifting shadows.
"The second was only a child," Jay continued, oblivious to the way Atro was staring at her with big, wet eyes. "An orphan, probably, desperate enough to agree to murder the Councilor in exchange for bread."
Atro blinked. "You think someone sent a child after me?" Jay just looked at him, and he remembered that she herself had been trained as a spy and assassin from the time she was six. But that was only an odd Nikolean tradition, not something one saw in more civilized nations. Still, there had been Railohn, and though he was a salkiy he had successfully fooled many people for over a year. "I hardly think a starving orphan would have the wherewithal to kill me."
"Indeed," said Jay. "Which is how I caught her so easily."
"Her?"
"She would not admit to anything." Jay probably hadn't even heard his exclamation. "All I could do was deposit her outside the gate. I found no weapons on her, though perhaps she had a poison stashed somewhere. I will have the grounds thoroughly searched at first sunrise, I promise you."
"That's not necessary--"
Jay held up her hand. Actually held up her hand to the Councilor she had sworn fealty to. Atro bit back a retort. This was Jay. That was just how she was. She didn't mean any disrespect by it
"The third was a well-dressed nobleman with his arm in a sash," she said. "He was very near the front of the crowd, in a deep blue doublet decorated with a ram. I am surprised you did not catch him yourself."
Atro had indeed seen the man she was talking about. "That was Lord Keyn," he said with a sigh. He had noticed the man had disappeared halfway through the ceremony, though at the time he had thought little of it. He hoped Jay didn't hurt him too badly. "He was one who helped us win the rebellion. He is no enemy of mine."
Jay frowned. "He was not among your fellow rebels."
"He never spoke to us directly," said Atro. "You probably just don't remember him."
"I remember every face at that camp."
"Then maybe he wasn't there when you were." Atro rubbed his face. There was no choice; he was going to have to get up at some point and make his way inside to his own chambers. Hopefully without looking like an invalid in the process. "Why did you suspect him?"
"He was watching you with a narrow glare."
"He was squinting. He has poor eyesight." Atro braced himself and stood up. "What did you do with him?"
Jay was silent long enough that Atro thought maybe she actually regretted her actions. "The prison," she finally said.
"Have him released immediately," said Atro. "No, not tomorrow. Now. I plan to make him an advisor, and a night in the prison is hardly a good first impression."
Jay stiffened slightly, gave a very short bow, and said, "As you will."
She had lowered her eyes, and for some reason that made Atro feel like he had been cast adrift in an endless, cold ocean. "Look at me," he said.
She, of course, obeyed immediately, her deep green eyes as arrogant as ever, but the thrill he felt--those eyes were his, that long golden hair, that lithe form, every piece of defiance in that compact, deadly body. All his, because she had sworn fealty. He wondered how far he could push his ownership, if all he had to do was ask and she would come to him, share the bed that was still awaiting an impossible distance away. He would stay awake, for that.
Or would she laugh at him, deny him? And would he bear that humiliation? Would he be more or less a lord if he allowed her the insubordination?
"My lord," she said, just the hint of a question at the end. He was staring at her again, and he shook his head. He hated how those words sounded from her mouth: perfectly acceptable in the presence of relevant company, but wrong here in the dark, him nearly falling over from exhaustion while the torches sputtered their last and the night birds settled down for sleep. His ownership was a daylight fiction. At night they each only owned themselves, and he would not insult her by even asking.
"Who was the fourth?" he said, because she had stopped at three.
She gave him a tight smile. "I did not see a fourth. That does not mean there was not one."
"What would you have done if he had struck?"
"Protected you, of course," said Jay. "Is it still my lord's wish that I go to the prison? Or do you need my help in getting to bed?"
He nearly choked on his next words. "The prison, please, Jay. Quickly."
Another bow, and she was gone.
Clutching the arm of his chair, Atro looked for his bedchamber window, a tiny patch of dark against the stone walls of the Private Hall, and began his long journey toward it.
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Thank you for reading!
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Thanks for reading!
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Jay's measured recitation of the attempted assassinations in the face of Atro's distraction shows her character so clearly.
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I love the bits about ownership. Are these two going to get together? That would definitely be interesting.
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No, they don't end up together. Jay doesn't swing that way (except in my cracky AU where she ends up with Merrus, of all people).