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rainbowfic2014-02-15 05:04 pm
auguris) wrote in rainbowfic2014-02-15 05:04 pm
Summertime Blues 2
Name: auguris
'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Old Friends
Colors: Summertime Blues 2. The band's breaking up.
Supplies and Styles: Seed Beads, Glitter ("Beware the fury of a patient man." – John Dryden), Pastels (passion), Novelty Beads ("The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference." ― Elie Wiesel fromblossomdreams)
Word Count: 1018
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Alistair visits Donat.
He didn't expect the knock at his office door, but found he wasn't surprised when Alistair let himself in. Broker had mentioned the man was back in the city, and there were few people in Krixos Alistair could still call 'friend.'
Donat was not sure he counted himself among that handful.
He peered at Alistair over the Paranormal Tribune, lowering the paper. "You have chosen a bad time to return to Krixos."
Alistair sat without asking. "I've never had very good timing, have I?" He leaned on his forearms, casting his gaze around the room. "Furaug finally pulled you into the city, then?"
Donat scratched his chin. "The Assembly's options are limited. We could have promoted Broker to Master Seer, but I don't feel he is ready." Alistair grunted, whether in agreement or otherwise Donat could not tell. "You've been told of Moira?"
Alistair swallowed before confirming. "A car accident. How unbelievably mundane." Mitchell hadn't told him, then. "Was she happy, Donat? Did she live well?"
"She was. Tamsin and Mitchell were her whole life, and she was a well-respected member of the Assembly. Exactly as she wanted it. There was very little around her she could not manipulate to her advantage, and I mean that in the best way; her life was her own." Indeed, there was little she could not control: The Court's opinion of her, quite sadly, and the man sitting in front of him.
And Nieve, he supposed, although he spent far too much time wondering if she would be at Dweven's side, were Moira still alive.
"Lady. I never thought. I expected her to be angry. I didn't expect her to be dead."
Donat sighed. "Much can change in twenty years, Alistair. Why are you here?" Alistair scrunched up his face. "It is obvious you have not found it, otherwise you would have said. What are you doing here, sitting in my office? What do you want?"
Alistair bowed his head, shoulders shaking. "I don't know. I honestly do not know. I have spent my life chasing dead leads. I've travelled all over the Ladyforsaken world and have nothing to show for it. I suppose I should contact Helena, if she will still speak to me. She may have--"
"She's dead. They're both dead." Donat rubbed his forehead. "As well as their daughter."
Alistair fell back, staring at Donat. "Lady's grace, is everybody dead?"
"You ask the Seer."
"Didn't they have a son, as well? Harold or some such?"
"You have met their son. He--
"Did he continue their research?" Alistair cut in, leaning forward. "Has he discovered anything new?"
Donat scowled at him. "He has done very little to continue their research and you will not harass him about it, Alistair."
"Harass him!" Alistair gripped the arm rests. "Don't you understand how important this is?"
"Alistair if you dare bother that man about his departed family I will remove you from the city myself!"
Silence hung to his exclamation. Donat glared at a gaping Alistair, ready to physically throw the man out.
Finally Alistair said, "You're serious."
"Very."
Alistair wiped his mouth. "Donat," he started, spreading his hands wide, "it's real. Excalibur. The Sword in the Stone. Arthur Pendragon's sword exists. For one brief moment in history the humans didn't hate us, they celebrated us, they loved us and worked with us and..." He gestured aimlessly. "And the Sword is a symbol of that! A gift to the first human king who loved us from the first wizard who loved humans--"
"Mordred murdered Arthur with the Sword," Donat said, and Alistair drew himself up, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "It is a story, from which many lessons can be derived and invented. We have such stories too, where I am from."
"Ours are real," Alistair snapped.
"So are mine. All stories are true, one way or another. Perhaps Emeris and Arthur truly negotiated a treaty between wizards and humans. Perhaps Yeshua truly died for the human's sins. Perhaps Walumbe is truly the keeper of death. Perhaps not." He folded his hands on the desk. "If the Sword is real, it was hidden for a reason, a long time ago, by those who understood it far better than us."
Alistair leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Donat reached within himself, preparing a ward. "We need it. The world is crowding us out, Donat, they're killing us and we're letting them because we've forgotten every other way. With the Sword--"
"We'll what? Hm? What is your grand plan, once you have finally, after thirty years of travel and research, dug Excalibur from her grave?" Donat gathered up the Tribune and slapped down Mitchell's article. "This is what is helping us now, Alistair. Exposure and transparency. Here a wizarding journalist, respected among humans, provides an update on the wizarding terrorist organization know as the Followers of Morgause. He has painted a clear picture of who they are and who they are not. The fact that the city has not run us out is due hugely in part to this wizard's efforts."
Alistair brought the paper close to his face, eyes darting across the page. "Mitchell wrote this?"
"You didn't know he's a journalist? Do you even know he's a Seer?"
"Of course I know he's a Seer," Alistair muttered. "I didn't know about this. He… we haven't spoken."
Donat leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Ah."
Alistair stared at the article another moment before replacing it to the desk. "Perhaps I should return to Wales."
Donat shook his head. "Yes. Our Lady's Scholars will be happy to see one of the faithful again, I'm sure."
"You have a different idea?"
"Tamsin is the only Firestarter in the city. The Assembly does not officially acknowledge your Talent anymore. She might appreciate some advice. An informal Apprenticeship, perhaps."
Alistair snorted. "She's far too old for that." He worried his lip. "Have you time for lunch?"
"I'm afraid I don't." He hadn't finished the paper yet.
Alistair stared at him, in challenge or appeal Donat could not say; eventually he nodded and stood, letting himself out.
auguris'verse: Ghost Sight
Story: Old Friends
Colors: Summertime Blues 2. The band's breaking up.
Supplies and Styles: Seed Beads, Glitter ("Beware the fury of a patient man." – John Dryden), Pastels (passion), Novelty Beads ("The opposite of love is not hate, it's indifference. The opposite of art is not ugliness, it's indifference. The opposite of faith is not heresy, it's indifference. And the opposite of life is not death, it's indifference." ― Elie Wiesel from
blossomdreams)Word Count: 1018
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Summary: Alistair visits Donat.
He didn't expect the knock at his office door, but found he wasn't surprised when Alistair let himself in. Broker had mentioned the man was back in the city, and there were few people in Krixos Alistair could still call 'friend.'
Donat was not sure he counted himself among that handful.
He peered at Alistair over the Paranormal Tribune, lowering the paper. "You have chosen a bad time to return to Krixos."
Alistair sat without asking. "I've never had very good timing, have I?" He leaned on his forearms, casting his gaze around the room. "Furaug finally pulled you into the city, then?"
Donat scratched his chin. "The Assembly's options are limited. We could have promoted Broker to Master Seer, but I don't feel he is ready." Alistair grunted, whether in agreement or otherwise Donat could not tell. "You've been told of Moira?"
Alistair swallowed before confirming. "A car accident. How unbelievably mundane." Mitchell hadn't told him, then. "Was she happy, Donat? Did she live well?"
"She was. Tamsin and Mitchell were her whole life, and she was a well-respected member of the Assembly. Exactly as she wanted it. There was very little around her she could not manipulate to her advantage, and I mean that in the best way; her life was her own." Indeed, there was little she could not control: The Court's opinion of her, quite sadly, and the man sitting in front of him.
And Nieve, he supposed, although he spent far too much time wondering if she would be at Dweven's side, were Moira still alive.
"Lady. I never thought. I expected her to be angry. I didn't expect her to be dead."
Donat sighed. "Much can change in twenty years, Alistair. Why are you here?" Alistair scrunched up his face. "It is obvious you have not found it, otherwise you would have said. What are you doing here, sitting in my office? What do you want?"
Alistair bowed his head, shoulders shaking. "I don't know. I honestly do not know. I have spent my life chasing dead leads. I've travelled all over the Ladyforsaken world and have nothing to show for it. I suppose I should contact Helena, if she will still speak to me. She may have--"
"She's dead. They're both dead." Donat rubbed his forehead. "As well as their daughter."
Alistair fell back, staring at Donat. "Lady's grace, is everybody dead?"
"You ask the Seer."
"Didn't they have a son, as well? Harold or some such?"
"You have met their son. He--
"Did he continue their research?" Alistair cut in, leaning forward. "Has he discovered anything new?"
Donat scowled at him. "He has done very little to continue their research and you will not harass him about it, Alistair."
"Harass him!" Alistair gripped the arm rests. "Don't you understand how important this is?"
"Alistair if you dare bother that man about his departed family I will remove you from the city myself!"
Silence hung to his exclamation. Donat glared at a gaping Alistair, ready to physically throw the man out.
Finally Alistair said, "You're serious."
"Very."
Alistair wiped his mouth. "Donat," he started, spreading his hands wide, "it's real. Excalibur. The Sword in the Stone. Arthur Pendragon's sword exists. For one brief moment in history the humans didn't hate us, they celebrated us, they loved us and worked with us and..." He gestured aimlessly. "And the Sword is a symbol of that! A gift to the first human king who loved us from the first wizard who loved humans--"
"Mordred murdered Arthur with the Sword," Donat said, and Alistair drew himself up, eyes wide and nostrils flaring. "It is a story, from which many lessons can be derived and invented. We have such stories too, where I am from."
"Ours are real," Alistair snapped.
"So are mine. All stories are true, one way or another. Perhaps Emeris and Arthur truly negotiated a treaty between wizards and humans. Perhaps Yeshua truly died for the human's sins. Perhaps Walumbe is truly the keeper of death. Perhaps not." He folded his hands on the desk. "If the Sword is real, it was hidden for a reason, a long time ago, by those who understood it far better than us."
Alistair leaned forward, fire in his eyes. Donat reached within himself, preparing a ward. "We need it. The world is crowding us out, Donat, they're killing us and we're letting them because we've forgotten every other way. With the Sword--"
"We'll what? Hm? What is your grand plan, once you have finally, after thirty years of travel and research, dug Excalibur from her grave?" Donat gathered up the Tribune and slapped down Mitchell's article. "This is what is helping us now, Alistair. Exposure and transparency. Here a wizarding journalist, respected among humans, provides an update on the wizarding terrorist organization know as the Followers of Morgause. He has painted a clear picture of who they are and who they are not. The fact that the city has not run us out is due hugely in part to this wizard's efforts."
Alistair brought the paper close to his face, eyes darting across the page. "Mitchell wrote this?"
"You didn't know he's a journalist? Do you even know he's a Seer?"
"Of course I know he's a Seer," Alistair muttered. "I didn't know about this. He… we haven't spoken."
Donat leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled. "Ah."
Alistair stared at the article another moment before replacing it to the desk. "Perhaps I should return to Wales."
Donat shook his head. "Yes. Our Lady's Scholars will be happy to see one of the faithful again, I'm sure."
"You have a different idea?"
"Tamsin is the only Firestarter in the city. The Assembly does not officially acknowledge your Talent anymore. She might appreciate some advice. An informal Apprenticeship, perhaps."
Alistair snorted. "She's far too old for that." He worried his lip. "Have you time for lunch?"
"I'm afraid I don't." He hadn't finished the paper yet.
Alistair stared at him, in challenge or appeal Donat could not say; eventually he nodded and stood, letting himself out.
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And what a damn good thing Alistair didn't know who Broker was. I sense that would have ended in tears. And flames.
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i swear i replied to this whatI MEAN THANK YOU YES. And wow no that would not have ended well at all!