ext_237176 ([identity profile] flowerpot.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 31_days2009-01-03 02:33 am

[JAN 2ND] [ORIGINAL] PARTIE DEUX

Title: PARTIE DEUX
Day/Theme: January 2nd · la vie en rose
Series: Original
Rating: G
Word count: 1 764
Authors Note: I forgot posting PART UNE last night. Perhaps Amnesty day ♥ I don't really have a title for any of these, so they'll have to be called thus.

'I believe, gentlemen, that you all enjoy fish? The finest Atlantic salmon this humble city may offer, on a bed of asparagus and créme fraiche - as the French like it - with a scattering of roe.. I hope you all enjoy your meal. After all, even if this little meeting of ours is all business there's nothing to say we can't enjoy a good bit of eating, hm?'
   The congregation of templar knights looked back at him as he sat, smug little smile in place, most of them quite successful in hiding their opinions on him, the food, and the meeting in general behind immovable expressions. Two particularly hungry individuals even picked up their forks to peel sweet baby potatoes. While Lukas was certain that the order of templars had never looked askance at a glass of wine, this particular chapter made sobriety not only part of their code, but the face they turned to the world, posing magnificently as a temperance movement. Templar, temperance: people these days seemed to know no difference, and he had to admit that it was a brilliant facade. Pity they weren't clever enough to use the ruse properly.
   'A shame that monseigneur de Molay couldn't join us tonight.'
   'Master de Molay sends his sincerest apologies that he couldn't attend to your soirée, sir, but he is being detained elsewhere with no way of escaping. He wouldn't tell us the details.'
   Lukas eyed the grand master's attendant with a benevolent smile, nodding his understanding. Of course he understood. Monseigneur de Molay wouldn't be caught dead in his presence, but so long as they could keep things nice and civil, the truce between the templar of Sundsvall and its ruling master would remain intact despite the shift of power. Now if only he could get this attendant to address him by name, he could rest a little bit more comfortably in his chair, watching the humans cautiously start on their meals and swilling the water in his glass. No wine. He wasn't much of a wine person, but even water is a dreary thing to sip all night through when you're not eating anything yourself - still, it was an important gesture to the templar. A minute detail, perhaps, but it might make a world of difference. An impeccably groomed eyebrow raised when the grand master's attendant cleared his throat again, but he was certain it wasn't to comment on the food - which should be exquisite.
   Now, the division of the city- '
   He raised a hand. 'Please, monseigneur de Charney. My predecessor and most beloved mentor would never have allowed business at the supper-table. You should relax. There is plenty of time, no?'
   'For you perhaps.' Was that a glimmer of impatience behind the man's eye? Surely it was nothing more but the flicker of a candle? Lukas almost smiled to himself. 'While we would have held our peace through a meal for senior regent Frost, in truth he never would have thought of serving us one. We appreciate the courtesy, but we agreed to meet with you because we wish to discuss the continuance of the treaty.'
   Incredibly rude, no matter how apologetic the man attempted it to sound. It was true: Ajax Frost wouldn't have entertained the idea for a second, but Ajax Frost was no longer regent of Sundsvall. Lukas was. And yet while he was hissing on the inside, he only allowed his exterior to cool, and he put his palms flat on the table, squaring his shoulders.
   'As you wish. Continue your meals, please - if for no reason but to humor my poor chef - but for you, monseigneur de Charney, we shall discuss this dreary topic along with it. Tell me, then, what matter burns so on your tongue that you'd rather have it out than hold your peace for twenty more minutes.'
   Perhaps his point had been driven home, because de Charney lowered his eyes for just a second. 'The division of the city; her expanding borders and who may govern which part.'
   'What's wrong with the division as it is now? I think a split of 55-45 is quite fair, considering it's in your own favour. You do realize I won't back any further?'
   'What about the expansion northwest? It may be plain forest now, but former regent Frost's work in the wilderness was significant enough that we've already seen activity in city hall. Plans for further urbanization will be forthcoming, be it another tourist facility or plain living quarters. What of those areas? They're neither yours nor ours: Master de Molay's primary concern is that we negate all possibly no-man's-land to avoid any form of conflict. I'm certain it is in your best interests as well as ours, sir.'
   'Please. Call me Lukas. Sir gets old so very quickly.'
   'Sir Lukas.' The man's voice came out as flat as his looks.
   'Fair enough. But you do realize that northwest.. It is yet inhabited. Frost never finished what he started..'
   'But you intend to do so, we all know this. And as far as we've heard, at least, you intend to put all your resources on the matter of eradicating the natives that currently reside there, isn't that it?'
   'Quite so.' While he made a little show of puffing his chest out to look rather flattered at the prospect of his oncoming conquest, he was in fact concerned. How did the templars acquire that sort of information? While it was true that he boasted his intentions openly to his own kind, that shouldn't mean it allowed to leak outside. 'Frost's work was admirable and laid a good foundation for his successor, but now it's time to step things up. The wolven rabble must go: they are a thing of the past.'
   To his pleasure, a couple of knights from de Charney's entourage lifted their glasses and murmured assent. A small victory. De Charney looked less impressed. 'But when,' Not if, Lukas noted with a victorious little smile, 'When they are routed, sir Lukas, what of the area then?'
   'We can discuss that as the time comes,' he managed, as benevolently as he possibly could. 'The area is really of little importance to me. For the moment I just want to see it cleansed, the caerns destroyed and their so-called sacred spots burnt, but after that I have no real interest in it. If the great minds of the city want to pave the place over, I say let them do it. If any heretics offshore come into my city they'll see very clearly what we are willing to do in response to their incursions.'
   'Your city?' De Charney's expression was impossible to read.
   'As regent of Sundsvall, I believe I have the liberty to call it my city, yes. It doesn't matter to you anyway: our jurisdictions are separate.' He was getting annoyed with the young man's willingness to find fault in his behavior when there really was nothing to bother about. He was sticking his neck out for them in a very obvious manner, so why the edgy demeanor? 'Listen, over the course of the past years no expansion of any greater proportion's occurred. To you, maybe, but not to me. If you're concerned about the harness racing, tell me so. If you're concerned about the newspapers, the banks, the stores, the general public, then tell me so. We have an agreement-'
   'The order had an agreement with regent Frost, not with yourself.'
   'We have an agreement, and I will honor it in that I will grant you the aid you require, so long as you stick your filthy little noses out of my business, is that clear?' He couldn't help it. De Charney was a snotty little child who needed to be put into place. Lukas didn't exactly hiss, but he was getting close to it. 'If the order wants to discuss movement of borders, I wish to discourse with grand master de Molay personally, not a cheeky lackey who don't even know the importance of proper manners. I don't mind you trodding on my toes, monseigneur de Charney, but you will not disrespect this agreement to my face when the choices aren't yours to make!'
   It was brusque, certainly. It made de Charney stand up and snatch his coat from the high seat without another word, face once more immovable like hewn rock, uneven and with an adamant set to it. Lukas watched his stiff movements, the confused, perhaps somewhat frightened, look of his hangers-on almost amusing enough to smooth his ruffled feathers, but he remained seated, palms still immovable against the table. While still upset, he had his wind back along with the pleasant tone of voice.
   'It's a great shame that you won't be staying. I had a delightful chocolate cake prepared: almonds and cranberries with a touch of lime yoghurt to go with your coffee. I'll send it to headquarters instead, shall I?' He actually found himself chuckling as the five men bustled out of his dining-room, looking a bit like insulted crows chased from the newly turned vegetable patch. 'It's a palate's dream, I assure you.'
   When the door closed behind the little humans, the silence was a bit of a blessing. There'd been too many irregular heartbeats to focus, stray thoughts slipping from unguarded minds and into the aether for him to pick up whether he wanted to or not. Untrained minds. Useful information if he might ever want to take on the order itself, but that wasn't very likely. They were more useful than the fact that their soldiers were becoming careless, even in the presence of the city regent.
   When Ajax had left Sundsvall for whatever unknown destination, he had pressed Lukas' hand almost fondly, and told him to take good care of the city while he was gone. He had lain the foundation for so many changes to come: all Lukas had to do was look through the notes and then push the button, and a lot of important buildings would come down, making great soil on which to build his new empire. It was going to be so easy, like sliding your tongue into an open chest wound, reaping the benefits without having to do any of the work. He was certain that there'd be an effort in there at some point in time.. but not now. Lukas leaned back in his high seat at the far end of the table, ignoring the rank smell of cooked food wafting off the platters, and smiled to himself.