ext_158887 ([identity profile] seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] 31_days2009-09-18 10:48 am

[Sept. 18] [Original] Contemplations at the Way Station

Title: Contemplations at the Way Station
Day/Theme: Sept. 18, 2009 "destiny is funny stuff"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Bashir, Saselia, Ilekano, Tiokihawa
Rating: G


Just as Saselia had expected, they spent the night in the shrine's way station. It was nothing elaborate, just an extra room with some cots and a fireplace. It was too warm for there to be any need to light a fire, but some dry logs lay inside on a pile of leftover gray ashes. As night fell, the quiet shrine seemed to come to life, attracting all the folk along the road who realized that they were unlikely to make it to another shrine or town that day and didn't wan to take the risk or trouble of camping somewhere. Simcha sold one more bottle of his ointment and bartered another for several ripe, red tomatoes. One of the priests from the shrine walked around with a jar for donations while his colleague stood on a stepstool to light the extra lamps. Most of the travelers were either poor or stingy. Bashir made sure none of his own companions were watching before giving the priest a coin. He didn't want to advertise the amount of money he was carrying despite how small it actually was. He didn't plan on buying any of Simcha's ointment.

Settling down on a crooked cot, he suddenly understood why Teleri had packed him a blanket and no sort of bed roll- if you were staying at shrines the bed was provided; the sheets were not. There was a strange aroma of incense mixed with spices, dirt, and old clothes. It was the combined scents carried by the travelers mixing together in the still air. It reminded Bashir of a visit he had made to the parade ground at Fasqea with his cousin and uncle, except the smell of horses was missing here. Tiokihawa had carried his daughter on his shoulders, but had been kind enough not to neglect his brother's young stepson, asking one of his omnipresent attendants to pick the boy up so he could see over the crowd. It wasn't that the younger emperor had any special interest in Bashir, but he was devoted to the whims of his daughter if somewhat awkward in many of his actual dealings with her. Neither parenting nor simply relating to most people seemed to come easily to him. It was like the late emperor, Kilone, had realized he only had the resources to make one of his sons into a successful ruler and he had chosen to pour all those resources into Ilekano as the older son. Of course, if you asked anyone who had known the emperors since their youth, they would say both were simply continuing to express the nature they had been born with. Biology was not destiny, but it was nothing to be scoffed at.

The way station gradually quieted to the soft sounds of snoring and whispered talk. Bashir leaned his arm under his head as a pillow and settled the straw hat over his face to block the light from his eye, listening in as an elderly man tuned his mandolin. When he slept, he dreamt of the capital.