Ah, more game fic.
Mar. 24th, 2005 02:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Everyone's favorite, right? This is a rather long one about Zoyala Colsirdi. If you're in her game, this is not in character knowledge for you, and I will call you on it. *glares* But enjoy. The third one is my personal favorite.
Partings
Lillian opened the door to Zoyala’s chambers, and Zoyala looked up. Her worried expression softened at the sight of her foster mother, and she said “Come in,” as she continued packing.
Shutting the door behind her, Lillian shook her head in exasperation, more a mother than a servant. “Well, you’ve certainly managed it this time, Zoya dear. You’re the Lady’s pet and then suddenly…”
Zoyala interrupted “Did you talk to her?”
Lillian sat down. “Yes. She was…not pleased, Zoyala. Not at all pleased.”
“I know.” Zoyala’s expression had turned grim, and she gazed out the window. “Believe me, I wish that this had not happened.” She turned back to Lillian. “You believe me, don’t you? This isn’t some whim, or running away? I would never…”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Lillian stood and examined Zoyala’s face, with a critical though not criticizing eye. “I convinced the Lady to let you go. She was reluctant, but agreed. I wish you could have explained a bit more…satisfactorily, however.” Zoyala nodded, mutely. With a sigh, Lillian shook her head. “Well, I trust you. If you must go, you must. But you will be careful.”
Zoyala smiled with much more confidence than she felt. “Of course I will. And I’ll be home just as soon as I can.” With a little laugh, she added, “I’m hardly pleased about having to tromp off to the east myself. I can’t imagine…” She realized she was about to say too much and stopped herself.
Lillian looked at her critically for a moment, but decided not to press the point. “I will miss you, Zoya. Arrangements have been made for you to leave early tomorrow. Our Lady says there’s no need for you to see her between now and then, unless you decide to tell her what you’ve been holding back.” A frown. “You really should have…”
Cutting her off, Zoya said “I told her all that I could. Honestly. I may be a good diplomat, but not good enough to lie lightly to Lady Esmeralda. She obviously knows there is more, as do you. I wish I could explain more fully, but” she shrugged. “Nothing to be done.” Holding back tears, Zoyala added “I will miss you too. And…thank you. For everything.”
The two women embraced, ignoring for the moment the difference in status that separated them. Zoyala whispered “Please explain to Seltaren, if he’ll listen.” She pulled away, and added, false cheerfulness back again “I’ll be home before you know it. I’m sure this matter will resolve itself.
Lillian nodded. “Safe travels, Zoya. And Goddess bless.” She left the room with a small bow from the waist, Mistress of the Houses for the Silver Throne once more. Zoya bit back tears. Suddenly she felt very young, and very trapped.
--
About an hour later, there was an insistent knocking on Zoyala’s door. She looked up from the letter she was finishing, and called “It’s open.” Melaidrin whirled through the door, letting it slam behind her, at which Dornet winced.
“Zoy! What’s going on? The whole court is in an uproar.”
“Come on, Mel. Don’t be melodramatic.” Zoyala smiled wanly. “I’m sure no one cares.”
“What are you talking about? Everyone knows when Lady Esmeralda is angry, and everyone knows who caused it. Roza was smirking at me as I came here, and I’ve had three random young noblemen ask if I was coming with you and did we need an escort.” Mel collapsed onto Zoyala’s bed. “So, you’re running off, then?”
Zoyala masked her annoyance fairly well, but even Mel picked up a note of it in her voice. “I’m not simply running off. I don’t have a choice in the matter. And my goal was never to anger my Lady... It was…”
Melaidrin, excited, cut her off. “Oh, Zoy, don’t worry about it. I think it’s brilliant. You have to get out and do your own thing. You have to walk your own path, right?” She sighed. “You wouldn’t take me with you?”
Shocked for a moment, Zoyala recovered relatively quickly. “As much as I’d love to have you, I can’t take you away from your responsibilities here.” Besides, she thought, you weren’t in the vision.
“I know. I can’t leave Papa, and family responsibilities and whatnot. But I’d love to find out what’s in the east. I really would.” Mel finally seemed to register something. “But…you are coming back, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am! As soon as I can.” Zoyala folded up the letter and sealed it. “This whole mess came at a most inopportune time. What with all the dwarves being slaughtered and the Lady relying on me for…well, probably for too much. But I never wanted to leave. Not like this, at any rate.”
Melaidrin looked sympathetic. “Zoy, there comes a time when you have to be your own person, you know? I realize you’re the responsible one. Or at least you made everyone think so,” she added with a small smile. “But some things are bigger than Silverymoon or what you perceive as your debt to Lillian and the Lady.”
“It’s more than a perceived debt, Mel. But I suppose you’re right. Things…have gone out of my control.”
Mel hugged her friend warmly. “I’m sure you’ll be equal to it, Zoy. Whatever it is.” Mel was smiling again, though her eyes glistened a bit. “And bring me back something interesting from your travels, all right? Maybe I won’t die of jealousy.” Zoyala nodded. “I’ll miss you. The gods know there aren’t enough people with a proper sense of fun in this court.”
“Don’t get in too much trouble, Mel.” Zoyala gave her a tentative smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Safe journey then. See you soon.” Zoyala gave Tumrick a small stroke, and then he and Mel were gone. Zoyala pulled her emotions under control, and began the second letter she needed to write before departing.
--
For the third time that evening, there was a sharp rapping on Zoyala’s door. Emotionally exhausted, fighting back a headache, she opened it. Sarin stood in front of her. She almost didn’t recognize him at first; it occurred to her she had never seen him angry before. Quietly, he said “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Zoyala back into the room and he strode in. It would have been almost comical. Gawky, awkward Sarin standing there in a cold fury. Funny, if it hadn’t been directed at her.
“So I hear you’re leaving. Were you going to say goodbye, or was that another duty you felt like ducking out of?”
It was hard to surprise Zoyala, or at least, to make her show her surprise. Sarin had succeeded. “I…of course I was going to say goodbye! I was just…”
He cut her off. He was still speaking very quietly, no trace of a tremor in his voice. “What possessed you, Zoyala.” She winced at the use of her full name from him. “Mel is the irresponsible one, or so I always thought. You…I thought you felt like you owed something to your duty. If not for Lady Esmeralda, then for Lillian, surely. The moment you get some flash of a picture you don’t even have the skill to interpret, you fly off into the wilderness, never to be seen again?” Zoyala tried to respond, but he plowed through. This was the most Zoyala had heard him say concurrently in years, and he made no sign of stopping. “You’re not an outdoorswoman, you know. What do you plan to do after your escort leaves you? And you assure everyone you’re coming back, but won’t tell anyone what you’re going to do. No one will have any way to get into contact with you, nor you with anyone else. And furthermore, the touchy negotiations with Zakhara may well fall apart when you go.” His anger seemed to waver for a moment, and Zoyala jumped in, thinking how strange it was to have to interrupt Sarin, of all people.
“Sarin.” She stared into his face, and noticed that his brown eyes, though hidden behind his glasses, were strangely similar to Brett Hellilon’s. She saw that he was still angry, but listening now. For a moment, Zoyala unconsciously let her carefully constructed mask slip under the stress, and startled, Sarin took a step backward. There was a glimpse of the girl who had grown up on the streets for eight years, who was used to fighting tooth and nail for something to eat, who did what she had to do to survive. “I may not know the woods, but I can take care of myself.” Suddenly, her mask was back in place. She was the Zoyala that Sarin was used to. She was undoubtedly freer than he saw her in court, but now he knew that this was still simply another layer of her emotional armor. “And believe me, I know about my responsibilities. I dearly wish that this had not happened now.” She sat down, a hand to her forehead.
Sarin was still angry, but a touch of his customary awkwardness had returned. “It’s just…why do you have to go now? Why can’t you wait until a time when we…I mean, when Lady Esmeralda doesn’t need you so much?”
She looked up at him. “If it were my choice, I wouldn’t go at all.”
He knelt down, at eye level with Zoyala. “Then don’t go.”
Sighing, she replied “It isn’t that simple. I wish I could make you understand. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Sarin shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t understand. It’s not your place to leave. You have duties here. Your training isn’t complete. The Gods alone know when you’ll be back.”
“I…I know all this. Please, Sarin.”
He turned away and stood. “It seems you aren’t being reasonable about this. Fine, then. I never thought it’d be you who would run off.” With uncustomary harshness he added “Have any young swashbucklers offered to accompany you yet?”
Zoyala stood. “Sarin! Surely you know me better than that.”
“I thought I did, once.” He turned to go. “Don’t do anything stupid. I hope you may honor one of your promises, and actually return to us.” More under control than when he arrived, he purposely didn’t slam her door.
Alone in her rooms, the tears finally came. As much as she hated leaving the others, at least she had been able to make them understand. The pain in her head added to her frustration at the utter unfairness of the whole situation. She fought back the urge to run after Sarin, to make him understand. For now, she was going to have to learn to be self-sufficient once more.
Partings
Lillian opened the door to Zoyala’s chambers, and Zoyala looked up. Her worried expression softened at the sight of her foster mother, and she said “Come in,” as she continued packing.
Shutting the door behind her, Lillian shook her head in exasperation, more a mother than a servant. “Well, you’ve certainly managed it this time, Zoya dear. You’re the Lady’s pet and then suddenly…”
Zoyala interrupted “Did you talk to her?”
Lillian sat down. “Yes. She was…not pleased, Zoyala. Not at all pleased.”
“I know.” Zoyala’s expression had turned grim, and she gazed out the window. “Believe me, I wish that this had not happened.” She turned back to Lillian. “You believe me, don’t you? This isn’t some whim, or running away? I would never…”
“I know you wouldn’t.” Lillian stood and examined Zoyala’s face, with a critical though not criticizing eye. “I convinced the Lady to let you go. She was reluctant, but agreed. I wish you could have explained a bit more…satisfactorily, however.” Zoyala nodded, mutely. With a sigh, Lillian shook her head. “Well, I trust you. If you must go, you must. But you will be careful.”
Zoyala smiled with much more confidence than she felt. “Of course I will. And I’ll be home just as soon as I can.” With a little laugh, she added, “I’m hardly pleased about having to tromp off to the east myself. I can’t imagine…” She realized she was about to say too much and stopped herself.
Lillian looked at her critically for a moment, but decided not to press the point. “I will miss you, Zoya. Arrangements have been made for you to leave early tomorrow. Our Lady says there’s no need for you to see her between now and then, unless you decide to tell her what you’ve been holding back.” A frown. “You really should have…”
Cutting her off, Zoya said “I told her all that I could. Honestly. I may be a good diplomat, but not good enough to lie lightly to Lady Esmeralda. She obviously knows there is more, as do you. I wish I could explain more fully, but” she shrugged. “Nothing to be done.” Holding back tears, Zoyala added “I will miss you too. And…thank you. For everything.”
The two women embraced, ignoring for the moment the difference in status that separated them. Zoyala whispered “Please explain to Seltaren, if he’ll listen.” She pulled away, and added, false cheerfulness back again “I’ll be home before you know it. I’m sure this matter will resolve itself.
Lillian nodded. “Safe travels, Zoya. And Goddess bless.” She left the room with a small bow from the waist, Mistress of the Houses for the Silver Throne once more. Zoya bit back tears. Suddenly she felt very young, and very trapped.
--
About an hour later, there was an insistent knocking on Zoyala’s door. She looked up from the letter she was finishing, and called “It’s open.” Melaidrin whirled through the door, letting it slam behind her, at which Dornet winced.
“Zoy! What’s going on? The whole court is in an uproar.”
“Come on, Mel. Don’t be melodramatic.” Zoyala smiled wanly. “I’m sure no one cares.”
“What are you talking about? Everyone knows when Lady Esmeralda is angry, and everyone knows who caused it. Roza was smirking at me as I came here, and I’ve had three random young noblemen ask if I was coming with you and did we need an escort.” Mel collapsed onto Zoyala’s bed. “So, you’re running off, then?”
Zoyala masked her annoyance fairly well, but even Mel picked up a note of it in her voice. “I’m not simply running off. I don’t have a choice in the matter. And my goal was never to anger my Lady... It was…”
Melaidrin, excited, cut her off. “Oh, Zoy, don’t worry about it. I think it’s brilliant. You have to get out and do your own thing. You have to walk your own path, right?” She sighed. “You wouldn’t take me with you?”
Shocked for a moment, Zoyala recovered relatively quickly. “As much as I’d love to have you, I can’t take you away from your responsibilities here.” Besides, she thought, you weren’t in the vision.
“I know. I can’t leave Papa, and family responsibilities and whatnot. But I’d love to find out what’s in the east. I really would.” Mel finally seemed to register something. “But…you are coming back, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am! As soon as I can.” Zoyala folded up the letter and sealed it. “This whole mess came at a most inopportune time. What with all the dwarves being slaughtered and the Lady relying on me for…well, probably for too much. But I never wanted to leave. Not like this, at any rate.”
Melaidrin looked sympathetic. “Zoy, there comes a time when you have to be your own person, you know? I realize you’re the responsible one. Or at least you made everyone think so,” she added with a small smile. “But some things are bigger than Silverymoon or what you perceive as your debt to Lillian and the Lady.”
“It’s more than a perceived debt, Mel. But I suppose you’re right. Things…have gone out of my control.”
Mel hugged her friend warmly. “I’m sure you’ll be equal to it, Zoy. Whatever it is.” Mel was smiling again, though her eyes glistened a bit. “And bring me back something interesting from your travels, all right? Maybe I won’t die of jealousy.” Zoyala nodded. “I’ll miss you. The gods know there aren’t enough people with a proper sense of fun in this court.”
“Don’t get in too much trouble, Mel.” Zoyala gave her a tentative smile. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Safe journey then. See you soon.” Zoyala gave Tumrick a small stroke, and then he and Mel were gone. Zoyala pulled her emotions under control, and began the second letter she needed to write before departing.
--
For the third time that evening, there was a sharp rapping on Zoyala’s door. Emotionally exhausted, fighting back a headache, she opened it. Sarin stood in front of her. She almost didn’t recognize him at first; it occurred to her she had never seen him angry before. Quietly, he said “May I come in?”
“Of course.” Zoyala back into the room and he strode in. It would have been almost comical. Gawky, awkward Sarin standing there in a cold fury. Funny, if it hadn’t been directed at her.
“So I hear you’re leaving. Were you going to say goodbye, or was that another duty you felt like ducking out of?”
It was hard to surprise Zoyala, or at least, to make her show her surprise. Sarin had succeeded. “I…of course I was going to say goodbye! I was just…”
He cut her off. He was still speaking very quietly, no trace of a tremor in his voice. “What possessed you, Zoyala.” She winced at the use of her full name from him. “Mel is the irresponsible one, or so I always thought. You…I thought you felt like you owed something to your duty. If not for Lady Esmeralda, then for Lillian, surely. The moment you get some flash of a picture you don’t even have the skill to interpret, you fly off into the wilderness, never to be seen again?” Zoyala tried to respond, but he plowed through. This was the most Zoyala had heard him say concurrently in years, and he made no sign of stopping. “You’re not an outdoorswoman, you know. What do you plan to do after your escort leaves you? And you assure everyone you’re coming back, but won’t tell anyone what you’re going to do. No one will have any way to get into contact with you, nor you with anyone else. And furthermore, the touchy negotiations with Zakhara may well fall apart when you go.” His anger seemed to waver for a moment, and Zoyala jumped in, thinking how strange it was to have to interrupt Sarin, of all people.
“Sarin.” She stared into his face, and noticed that his brown eyes, though hidden behind his glasses, were strangely similar to Brett Hellilon’s. She saw that he was still angry, but listening now. For a moment, Zoyala unconsciously let her carefully constructed mask slip under the stress, and startled, Sarin took a step backward. There was a glimpse of the girl who had grown up on the streets for eight years, who was used to fighting tooth and nail for something to eat, who did what she had to do to survive. “I may not know the woods, but I can take care of myself.” Suddenly, her mask was back in place. She was the Zoyala that Sarin was used to. She was undoubtedly freer than he saw her in court, but now he knew that this was still simply another layer of her emotional armor. “And believe me, I know about my responsibilities. I dearly wish that this had not happened now.” She sat down, a hand to her forehead.
Sarin was still angry, but a touch of his customary awkwardness had returned. “It’s just…why do you have to go now? Why can’t you wait until a time when we…I mean, when Lady Esmeralda doesn’t need you so much?”
She looked up at him. “If it were my choice, I wouldn’t go at all.”
He knelt down, at eye level with Zoyala. “Then don’t go.”
Sighing, she replied “It isn’t that simple. I wish I could make you understand. I don’t have a choice in the matter.”
Sarin shook his head. “You’re right. I don’t understand. It’s not your place to leave. You have duties here. Your training isn’t complete. The Gods alone know when you’ll be back.”
“I…I know all this. Please, Sarin.”
He turned away and stood. “It seems you aren’t being reasonable about this. Fine, then. I never thought it’d be you who would run off.” With uncustomary harshness he added “Have any young swashbucklers offered to accompany you yet?”
Zoyala stood. “Sarin! Surely you know me better than that.”
“I thought I did, once.” He turned to go. “Don’t do anything stupid. I hope you may honor one of your promises, and actually return to us.” More under control than when he arrived, he purposely didn’t slam her door.
Alone in her rooms, the tears finally came. As much as she hated leaving the others, at least she had been able to make them understand. The pain in her head added to her frustration at the utter unfairness of the whole situation. She fought back the urge to run after Sarin, to make him understand. For now, she was going to have to learn to be self-sufficient once more.
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Date: 2005-03-24 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-24 09:20 pm (UTC)