Light & Dark #8 - Yup, more politics
Apr. 19th, 2004 02:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sparkindarknessThe plot thickens, more political plots open in front of me though, sadly. Seems the Sidhe are much happier cogitating and plotting than they are actually doing anything.
Sitharensor: *raises eyebrows in utter contempt* Action without thought is a very human activity. And with this philosophy, you have acted as good stewards for this world?
Ilatheril: *smug look* We act when we want to, not before human.
*sigh*
Sitharensor watched Ilatheril return to the room, just slightly ahead of the enigmatically smiling Lady Myrawen. Would she side with them? He ruthlessly quashed the hope that rose within him, he couldn't afford to err on the side of the idealistic. Better to consider her undecided - no-one knew what way House Fresh sight would turn, not even after they had turned, most of the time.
“A strange and wary night, my lord.”
Sitharensor turned in surprise to Sir Hrolf, looming out of the crowd back to his side. The young sidhe strove to give an impression of unconcern, walking away from his bodyguard and even walking free of magic in a room where every other sidhe had called on every power as close to hand as possible. Sir Hrolf was less than happy with the plan, caring more for Sitharensor’s safety than politics, still it was unusual for him to return against the sidhe’s will.
Something troubles you, Sir Hrolf? Sitharensor’s voice whispered quietly and secretly in the ancient Troll’s head.
Trolls, unfortunately, lacked that particular talent. “So many worry tonight, my lord. I think it foolish, I put my loyal trust in House Eternal Fire.” His voice rang with echoing conviction. Sitharensor froze in place, his court training pushed to the limit by one tiny, half formed doubt. Sir Hrolf was trying to tell him something. And he had said ‘I’.
“I hold it in my heart that I can always trust your service, Sir Hrolf.” Forgive me, Hrolf, I must be blunt. Does Lord Aeric gather arms? Lord Aeric of House Blood Snow was highest ranking and most respected Troll in all the Isles and a cousin of the Troll King himself. If he thought the Unseelie would draw steel, he would consider himself honour bound to be ready to protect the Seelie - especially the sidhe - from their treachery. But in making such preparations he could destroy the peace before it even began!
Hrolf looked uncomfortable, as much as the stony countenance of a Troll ever betrayed emotions. What could have disconcerted him so. “Be assured in my service, my lord. Many think to question this peace with the Unseelie, I see them gathering in corners to discuss it even though the decision has been made.” He shook his head fiercely, glaring over the hall.
Sitharensor nearly choked. He caught himself just in time, just long enough to grab a goblet from a passing tray and raise it to his lips, draining it in one long swallow. He hoped it hid his face, plastered with shock. By all the Gods, never did he predict this!
The Trolls doubt us?! They meet to discuss the peace? To what end?
“I dearly hope all wise fae here tonight give their full support to your father, my lord.” His gravely voice dropped to a sad rumble.
Sitharensor nearly dropped his cup. This could not be! The Trolls discuss withdrawing their support? His mental voice shook, and he couldn’t still it. They hold a Low Court to consider a split with Eternal Fire? Hrolf tried to avoid the eyes of the near visibly panicking sidhe as he nodded.
Sitharensor froze, unable to control his expression, he could manage only to freeze it to a mask. Any court trained fae would recognise it for what it was; a poor disguise for the fear inside. The Trolls were discussing a split. The Trolls had always stood with Eternal Fire, ever since the first Troll King knelt before the sidhe. No matter what political problems House Eternal Fire face, the Trolls were always there. No matter how low their influence and power waned, the other houses - friend or foe - always listened because they knew that Eternal Fire could call the Trolls - up to the Troll King himself. No-one ever dared stand openly against Eternal Fire, especially on the battlefield - because Eternal Fire had the Trolls and the Trollen courts... Without the Trolls... Sitharensor’s mind reeled at the thought.
“Let me refill your goblet, milord. ‘Tis a fine vintage, if I do say so myself.” Sitharensor looked down to see Amos, his personal head of staff. He couldn’t help at smile at the goodwill on the Boggun’s face, even in the midst of such turmoil. People underestimated the Bogguns, assuming their goodwill, kindness and simple pleasures made them naive and foolish. Any ruler worth his salt knew better, Bogguns’ liked nothing better than gossip. If you thought a Boggun knew only twice as much as he was supposed to, then you knew half the truth.
“Thank you, Amos. Your great uncle was always the only one who could lay down truly good vines in the fief.” As the Boggun filled his goblet, Sitharensor met his serious brown eyes. He pushed slightly against them with his power - a request and an invitation together.
Oh thank you, milord! I’d hoped you’d understand, I was fair beside meself with worry, I was! Bogguns could talk mind to mind with themselves (though they seldom did so - it made whispering gossip other tea far less attractive if they acknowledged they could communicate with secret telepathy instead.) The only way for them to communicate with the sidhe is with the help of the sidhe’s magic.
What troubles you, Amos?
Oh, ‘tis me father, milord! He’s in a fair state! Can’t believe it, he says. Never would have happened in his day, he says! Oh that I should see it come to this! Shame, shame I say!
Please, Amos, you’re making little sense. What has troubled Wendel so?
Oh, my people, milord! The shame of it - to hold a Thing to discuss the Unseelie when you - their liege lords no less! Have already made the decision! ‘Tis a wicked thing to doubt your lords so! And I tole them it straight! Wicked I said! Just because the Gnomes be doing it doesn’t mean we should be, I said! Two wrongs just make the problem twice as bad, I said! I said we should know better, I did! And what if the Gnomes don’t want to mix with their Unseelie cousins? ‘Tis no business of ours, i said. And asides, I said, ‘tis not the proper thing to hold a meeting to discuss it. If they have a problem they should see their lords, I said, and do it proper like - same with us for that matter. And would they hear me? Shameful! Shameful I calls it!
Sitharensor fought his way through the rush of words, somewhat lost in the deluge before the meaning sank in. Several heads turned, whispers starting as he visibly paled. He tried to blank his mind. He failed.
Ilatheril sidled up to him, hiding his own sudden worry. You look like someone just died, Sith. What happened? Someone use the wrong hand to pick up hors d’oeuvres?
The political situation just became a great deal more deadly. Or has been becoming a lot more deadly over years under our very noses without any of us blinking.
What? All the houses against you?
Most of the Honoured Houses are remaining firmly non-committal. As expected. There are only three Great Houses in the realm, including Eternal Fire. Two are in favour, one against. But...
Sitharensor was cut off by the sudden reappearance of their father’s re-emerging into the Hall. The room fell in dead silence, as much in surprise at the quick decision as anything.
Lord Brionachan and Lord Kirathil stood forward together. A somewhat meaningless gesture of unity. They spoke in perfect unison, two voices blended as one. One sibilant and echoing to parts of the body that had nothing to do with hearing. The other rich and rolling, more like thick warm sunlight then anything as crass as sound and voice.
“We have deliberated and decided. This foolish act of sabotage will not destroy the only chance of peace our people have. We have decided and we will not allow this defiance. The Seelie and Unseelie courts can and will work together, can and will live in peace. We have decreed it, and not even the gods will set aside our will.” Their gazes tracked over the crowd, causing even the stoutest hearts to quail. “Our sons have come together as one in marriage. Our sons have brought the courts together. And our sons will prove our will manifest. United, Seelie and Unseelie, they will discover the perpetrator of this vile sabotage and ensure this wrong is righted. This we say. This we will. So shall this be.”
The silence was broken only by the quick whispered movement as Amos caught the goblet that fell from Sitharensor’s nerveless hand.
Sitharensor: *raises eyebrows in utter contempt* Action without thought is a very human activity. And with this philosophy, you have acted as good stewards for this world?
Ilatheril: *smug look* We act when we want to, not before human.
*sigh*
Sitharensor watched Ilatheril return to the room, just slightly ahead of the enigmatically smiling Lady Myrawen. Would she side with them? He ruthlessly quashed the hope that rose within him, he couldn't afford to err on the side of the idealistic. Better to consider her undecided - no-one knew what way House Fresh sight would turn, not even after they had turned, most of the time.
“A strange and wary night, my lord.”
Sitharensor turned in surprise to Sir Hrolf, looming out of the crowd back to his side. The young sidhe strove to give an impression of unconcern, walking away from his bodyguard and even walking free of magic in a room where every other sidhe had called on every power as close to hand as possible. Sir Hrolf was less than happy with the plan, caring more for Sitharensor’s safety than politics, still it was unusual for him to return against the sidhe’s will.
Something troubles you, Sir Hrolf? Sitharensor’s voice whispered quietly and secretly in the ancient Troll’s head.
Trolls, unfortunately, lacked that particular talent. “So many worry tonight, my lord. I think it foolish, I put my loyal trust in House Eternal Fire.” His voice rang with echoing conviction. Sitharensor froze in place, his court training pushed to the limit by one tiny, half formed doubt. Sir Hrolf was trying to tell him something. And he had said ‘I’.
“I hold it in my heart that I can always trust your service, Sir Hrolf.” Forgive me, Hrolf, I must be blunt. Does Lord Aeric gather arms? Lord Aeric of House Blood Snow was highest ranking and most respected Troll in all the Isles and a cousin of the Troll King himself. If he thought the Unseelie would draw steel, he would consider himself honour bound to be ready to protect the Seelie - especially the sidhe - from their treachery. But in making such preparations he could destroy the peace before it even began!
Hrolf looked uncomfortable, as much as the stony countenance of a Troll ever betrayed emotions. What could have disconcerted him so. “Be assured in my service, my lord. Many think to question this peace with the Unseelie, I see them gathering in corners to discuss it even though the decision has been made.” He shook his head fiercely, glaring over the hall.
Sitharensor nearly choked. He caught himself just in time, just long enough to grab a goblet from a passing tray and raise it to his lips, draining it in one long swallow. He hoped it hid his face, plastered with shock. By all the Gods, never did he predict this!
The Trolls doubt us?! They meet to discuss the peace? To what end?
“I dearly hope all wise fae here tonight give their full support to your father, my lord.” His gravely voice dropped to a sad rumble.
Sitharensor nearly dropped his cup. This could not be! The Trolls discuss withdrawing their support? His mental voice shook, and he couldn’t still it. They hold a Low Court to consider a split with Eternal Fire? Hrolf tried to avoid the eyes of the near visibly panicking sidhe as he nodded.
Sitharensor froze, unable to control his expression, he could manage only to freeze it to a mask. Any court trained fae would recognise it for what it was; a poor disguise for the fear inside. The Trolls were discussing a split. The Trolls had always stood with Eternal Fire, ever since the first Troll King knelt before the sidhe. No matter what political problems House Eternal Fire face, the Trolls were always there. No matter how low their influence and power waned, the other houses - friend or foe - always listened because they knew that Eternal Fire could call the Trolls - up to the Troll King himself. No-one ever dared stand openly against Eternal Fire, especially on the battlefield - because Eternal Fire had the Trolls and the Trollen courts... Without the Trolls... Sitharensor’s mind reeled at the thought.
“Let me refill your goblet, milord. ‘Tis a fine vintage, if I do say so myself.” Sitharensor looked down to see Amos, his personal head of staff. He couldn’t help at smile at the goodwill on the Boggun’s face, even in the midst of such turmoil. People underestimated the Bogguns, assuming their goodwill, kindness and simple pleasures made them naive and foolish. Any ruler worth his salt knew better, Bogguns’ liked nothing better than gossip. If you thought a Boggun knew only twice as much as he was supposed to, then you knew half the truth.
“Thank you, Amos. Your great uncle was always the only one who could lay down truly good vines in the fief.” As the Boggun filled his goblet, Sitharensor met his serious brown eyes. He pushed slightly against them with his power - a request and an invitation together.
Oh thank you, milord! I’d hoped you’d understand, I was fair beside meself with worry, I was! Bogguns could talk mind to mind with themselves (though they seldom did so - it made whispering gossip other tea far less attractive if they acknowledged they could communicate with secret telepathy instead.) The only way for them to communicate with the sidhe is with the help of the sidhe’s magic.
What troubles you, Amos?
Oh, ‘tis me father, milord! He’s in a fair state! Can’t believe it, he says. Never would have happened in his day, he says! Oh that I should see it come to this! Shame, shame I say!
Please, Amos, you’re making little sense. What has troubled Wendel so?
Oh, my people, milord! The shame of it - to hold a Thing to discuss the Unseelie when you - their liege lords no less! Have already made the decision! ‘Tis a wicked thing to doubt your lords so! And I tole them it straight! Wicked I said! Just because the Gnomes be doing it doesn’t mean we should be, I said! Two wrongs just make the problem twice as bad, I said! I said we should know better, I did! And what if the Gnomes don’t want to mix with their Unseelie cousins? ‘Tis no business of ours, i said. And asides, I said, ‘tis not the proper thing to hold a meeting to discuss it. If they have a problem they should see their lords, I said, and do it proper like - same with us for that matter. And would they hear me? Shameful! Shameful I calls it!
Sitharensor fought his way through the rush of words, somewhat lost in the deluge before the meaning sank in. Several heads turned, whispers starting as he visibly paled. He tried to blank his mind. He failed.
Ilatheril sidled up to him, hiding his own sudden worry. You look like someone just died, Sith. What happened? Someone use the wrong hand to pick up hors d’oeuvres?
The political situation just became a great deal more deadly. Or has been becoming a lot more deadly over years under our very noses without any of us blinking.
What? All the houses against you?
Most of the Honoured Houses are remaining firmly non-committal. As expected. There are only three Great Houses in the realm, including Eternal Fire. Two are in favour, one against. But...
Sitharensor was cut off by the sudden reappearance of their father’s re-emerging into the Hall. The room fell in dead silence, as much in surprise at the quick decision as anything.
Lord Brionachan and Lord Kirathil stood forward together. A somewhat meaningless gesture of unity. They spoke in perfect unison, two voices blended as one. One sibilant and echoing to parts of the body that had nothing to do with hearing. The other rich and rolling, more like thick warm sunlight then anything as crass as sound and voice.
“We have deliberated and decided. This foolish act of sabotage will not destroy the only chance of peace our people have. We have decided and we will not allow this defiance. The Seelie and Unseelie courts can and will work together, can and will live in peace. We have decreed it, and not even the gods will set aside our will.” Their gazes tracked over the crowd, causing even the stoutest hearts to quail. “Our sons have come together as one in marriage. Our sons have brought the courts together. And our sons will prove our will manifest. United, Seelie and Unseelie, they will discover the perpetrator of this vile sabotage and ensure this wrong is righted. This we say. This we will. So shall this be.”
The silence was broken only by the quick whispered movement as Amos caught the goblet that fell from Sitharensor’s nerveless hand.