ext_158887 (
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in
31_days2007-04-15 04:38 pm
[April 15, 2006][Original] Facets of Identity
Title: Facets of Identity
Day/Theme: April 15, 2007 dreaming of angels
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Cara, a guardsman, and the head chef
Rating: PG
Author's comment: A continuation of "The Red Kite." Will be interrupted by another tale on the 16th and hopefully returned to on the 17th!
She smiled. "Hello Lord Thomas," she thought to herself, "Excellent day for kite-flying isn't it? Why don't you try doing it outdoors sometime like regular folk do?" How would he respond to that? She had no idea what his personality was like. Maybe he'd think she was being rude. Maybe he'd follow her suggestion. She assumed the minds of dukes' son were far beyond her peasant comprehension. She walked under the gateway and took her load to the yard behind the kitchen for chopping.
"How is the duke's current expedition going?" asked the head chef.
The guard she was addressing leaned against the door frame and shrugged. Cara looked up at them momentarily before turning her eyes and hands back to her work. She continued to listen silently as the guard offered his vague thoughts, "Probably okay. Lord Robert's a sharp guy. I mean, he's wise enough not to get the D'Armo's caught up in the dispute."
"I wonder if he'll come back home bringing some royal gold along with him to put to work around this place," the chef mused pleasantly.
"That might be going a bit far, but I hear if he's lucky, he might get to adopt a royal nobody to be his heir."
"Over Lord Thomas? Oh, that's gotta be a blow to his pride."
"Not sure he cares," the guard shrugged again, "The chief was there when the old lord told him and he says the young lord didn't bat an eye. He told me Lord Thomas just glanced around at all the knickknacks in the duke's office and crossed his arms."
Cara was splitting the logs so slowly now that the work was only a veil to hide her listening in on the nearby conversation. Lord Thomas didn't care if he became duke or not? Had staying so cooped up in the top of the castle cut him off from any sense of duty or responsibility to his people? Didn't he want to prove to his father that he was nothing to be embarrassed about? Cara felt indignant about the whole affair now. Cara wished she could go talk some sense into the duke's son. He was no forelorn princess in a prison- he sounded like a spoiled child who didn't want to take on any responsibilities!
"Well, if we do get a royal heir, I hope it's one who knows something about ruling," the cook clucked, "Not some prissy, powder-faced doll. And not someone who's just going to absorb the dukedom into their pre-existing domains either. Too much land is being consolidated into the hands of two or three lords' domains these days. Lord D'Armo's a good man for opposing that movement and Duke Valdir should join him in it."
"I'm with you there," the scruffy guardsman agreed. "The last time royals had all the power in this part of the world, everything spiraled out of control about once every decade. It was the only thing my old grandmother would ever talk about- those crazy kings back in her day. The dukes do a good job of keeping the monarchs from going completely haywire."
After Cara delivered the nicely split load of firewood to the kitchen, she went out into the center of the training yard, which was currently empty as most of the soldiers and guardsmen were away on campaign with the duke. She looked up at the red kite bobbing on the breeze and scowled her fiercest grimace of disdain at the pretty toy. Months of daydreaming had been marred by one guard's story. Her expression muted and faded until she was simply staring blankly. Maybe the story was wrong or exaggerated.
"I will judge for myself," she declared. Of course, how she would judge? She had never even been up close to Lord Thomas, so how would she find a chance to speak with him?
Day/Theme: April 15, 2007 dreaming of angels
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Cara, a guardsman, and the head chef
Rating: PG
Author's comment: A continuation of "The Red Kite." Will be interrupted by another tale on the 16th and hopefully returned to on the 17th!
She smiled. "Hello Lord Thomas," she thought to herself, "Excellent day for kite-flying isn't it? Why don't you try doing it outdoors sometime like regular folk do?" How would he respond to that? She had no idea what his personality was like. Maybe he'd think she was being rude. Maybe he'd follow her suggestion. She assumed the minds of dukes' son were far beyond her peasant comprehension. She walked under the gateway and took her load to the yard behind the kitchen for chopping.
"How is the duke's current expedition going?" asked the head chef.
The guard she was addressing leaned against the door frame and shrugged. Cara looked up at them momentarily before turning her eyes and hands back to her work. She continued to listen silently as the guard offered his vague thoughts, "Probably okay. Lord Robert's a sharp guy. I mean, he's wise enough not to get the D'Armo's caught up in the dispute."
"I wonder if he'll come back home bringing some royal gold along with him to put to work around this place," the chef mused pleasantly.
"That might be going a bit far, but I hear if he's lucky, he might get to adopt a royal nobody to be his heir."
"Over Lord Thomas? Oh, that's gotta be a blow to his pride."
"Not sure he cares," the guard shrugged again, "The chief was there when the old lord told him and he says the young lord didn't bat an eye. He told me Lord Thomas just glanced around at all the knickknacks in the duke's office and crossed his arms."
Cara was splitting the logs so slowly now that the work was only a veil to hide her listening in on the nearby conversation. Lord Thomas didn't care if he became duke or not? Had staying so cooped up in the top of the castle cut him off from any sense of duty or responsibility to his people? Didn't he want to prove to his father that he was nothing to be embarrassed about? Cara felt indignant about the whole affair now. Cara wished she could go talk some sense into the duke's son. He was no forelorn princess in a prison- he sounded like a spoiled child who didn't want to take on any responsibilities!
"Well, if we do get a royal heir, I hope it's one who knows something about ruling," the cook clucked, "Not some prissy, powder-faced doll. And not someone who's just going to absorb the dukedom into their pre-existing domains either. Too much land is being consolidated into the hands of two or three lords' domains these days. Lord D'Armo's a good man for opposing that movement and Duke Valdir should join him in it."
"I'm with you there," the scruffy guardsman agreed. "The last time royals had all the power in this part of the world, everything spiraled out of control about once every decade. It was the only thing my old grandmother would ever talk about- those crazy kings back in her day. The dukes do a good job of keeping the monarchs from going completely haywire."
After Cara delivered the nicely split load of firewood to the kitchen, she went out into the center of the training yard, which was currently empty as most of the soldiers and guardsmen were away on campaign with the duke. She looked up at the red kite bobbing on the breeze and scowled her fiercest grimace of disdain at the pretty toy. Months of daydreaming had been marred by one guard's story. Her expression muted and faded until she was simply staring blankly. Maybe the story was wrong or exaggerated.
"I will judge for myself," she declared. Of course, how she would judge? She had never even been up close to Lord Thomas, so how would she find a chance to speak with him?
