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31_days2009-12-19 12:30 pm
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-12-19 12:30 pm
[Dec. 19] [Original] Thoughts At Terser Manor
Title: Thoughts At Terser Manor
Day/Theme: Dec. 19, 2009 "there is no use in right or wrong"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Bashir & Frima
Rating: PG
"You can go up on the roof if you'd like to," Frima informed Bashir as she caught him glancing curiously at her as she descended the ladder. He had just wondered what she had been doing up there. Her husband probably didn't climb the ladder without assistance. His lame leg seemed pretty bad compared to Danjien Kie's slight limp. As far as Bashir could tell, neither of them had ever been warriors. He had met a lot of injured civilians where he would've expected veterans. Maybe the veterans who had taken such significant injuries during the civil wars were dead.
Frima's cloth-wrapped legs passed before his eyes in a rainbow of horizontal stripes in red, yellow, blue, and white, followed by her gently pleated skirt as she hopped down over the last three rungs. "It's a nice view of the town up there," she explained. "Sometimes some of the guys go and eat dinner up there- even sleep on the roof on the hottest days."
"I don't think I want to sleep on the roof," Bashir smiled meekly. "Not when such a nice house is an option."
"It is a nice house," Frima sighed. As she stepped around him, the gold coins decorating her vest jingled. Compared to the lifestyles of the emperors and their courtiers, the Tersers lived as modestly as monks, but on the other end of the spectrum, compared to the dyers' dwellings, or Shiv and Shank, or the many traveling merchants he had already encountered, Frima and Albright lived a gold-plated life. Someday Silesia might have a middle class like Catalonia, but for now, the two strata of society would stay largely separate. "Silesia is a good country. The Ghirans are a much harder place to live."
"Are all the things they say about the Ghirans true? ...About how dangerous the desert is, and how vicious the hoards are, and how women are treated like property? ...I'd heard there's a slave trade too."
"Oh, they say so many things about the Ghirans now, don't they? You know, it's a very large place. None of those things are true everywhere." Bashir felt somewhat chastened for buying into the cheap talk that always circulated whenever the Ghirans came up in casual conversation, but Frima was not finished yet. "Of course, all of them are true somewhere. Some Ghirans who come here don't follow the rules either. They bring their women and slaves and treat them just how they do back home."
"That's terrible. But....Is there anyone with the authority to stop them here? Especially if they're not permanent citizens."
"The inquisitors won't let them do it. At least that's what I've heard. They may not say anything to travelers just passing through, and what a man says to his wife in private can't be governed, but the slave merchants would love to extend their reach into Silesia and Catalonia, so they sell, trade, and kidnap as necessary. They aren't just using the slaves to run their own households." Bashir was impressed by how knowledgeable Frima appeared to be regarding the matter. He had just thought she was a pretty guild wife who assisted her husband with his work in Gyedar, but that was an underestimation of her talents. Either Frima was a very aware and well-connected keeper of the household, or she was also something more.
"You could held up all out by keeping an eye out for that sort of thing. For Kojay K'bal too. He's getting worse and worse lately." Her hazel eyes flew upon him purposefully and Bashir thought he knew what else Frima was. While the Merchant Guild might not like dealing with slave traders or criminals like this Kojay K'bal, it was strange for the guild to ask outsides for help with this problem. They certainly had to have guards of their own to handle thieves or crowd control in the markets. Someone had showed up to react to the fight he had seen, after all.
"Frima-" Could he just ask her straight out like that, or would she react badly? There didn't seem to be anyone else close by. "Uh," he thought on his feet, "Will you go up on the roof with me? I know you were just up there, but you can tell me what the buildings are. That will make it more interesting."
"Certainly," Frima agreed, following her guest up.
The sun had nearly set. Bashir felt more nervous about standing on the open, rail-less roof of the building than he had expected. Whereas he was actually a little on the short side for a well-nourished man, he now felt uncomfortably tall, towering over the gentle curves of Gyedar.
"You wanted to ask me something?" Frima prompted him.
"Where can I find the sign of the letter 'nev?'"
"That'd be on the back door of the office. The door to my personal office," she answered primly. "Though I am not a proper member of the order, Shirka, I took the position myself to keep them out. Albright and I- we like this place to stay ours."
Day/Theme: Dec. 19, 2009 "there is no use in right or wrong"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Bashir & Frima
Rating: PG
"You can go up on the roof if you'd like to," Frima informed Bashir as she caught him glancing curiously at her as she descended the ladder. He had just wondered what she had been doing up there. Her husband probably didn't climb the ladder without assistance. His lame leg seemed pretty bad compared to Danjien Kie's slight limp. As far as Bashir could tell, neither of them had ever been warriors. He had met a lot of injured civilians where he would've expected veterans. Maybe the veterans who had taken such significant injuries during the civil wars were dead.
Frima's cloth-wrapped legs passed before his eyes in a rainbow of horizontal stripes in red, yellow, blue, and white, followed by her gently pleated skirt as she hopped down over the last three rungs. "It's a nice view of the town up there," she explained. "Sometimes some of the guys go and eat dinner up there- even sleep on the roof on the hottest days."
"I don't think I want to sleep on the roof," Bashir smiled meekly. "Not when such a nice house is an option."
"It is a nice house," Frima sighed. As she stepped around him, the gold coins decorating her vest jingled. Compared to the lifestyles of the emperors and their courtiers, the Tersers lived as modestly as monks, but on the other end of the spectrum, compared to the dyers' dwellings, or Shiv and Shank, or the many traveling merchants he had already encountered, Frima and Albright lived a gold-plated life. Someday Silesia might have a middle class like Catalonia, but for now, the two strata of society would stay largely separate. "Silesia is a good country. The Ghirans are a much harder place to live."
"Are all the things they say about the Ghirans true? ...About how dangerous the desert is, and how vicious the hoards are, and how women are treated like property? ...I'd heard there's a slave trade too."
"Oh, they say so many things about the Ghirans now, don't they? You know, it's a very large place. None of those things are true everywhere." Bashir felt somewhat chastened for buying into the cheap talk that always circulated whenever the Ghirans came up in casual conversation, but Frima was not finished yet. "Of course, all of them are true somewhere. Some Ghirans who come here don't follow the rules either. They bring their women and slaves and treat them just how they do back home."
"That's terrible. But....Is there anyone with the authority to stop them here? Especially if they're not permanent citizens."
"The inquisitors won't let them do it. At least that's what I've heard. They may not say anything to travelers just passing through, and what a man says to his wife in private can't be governed, but the slave merchants would love to extend their reach into Silesia and Catalonia, so they sell, trade, and kidnap as necessary. They aren't just using the slaves to run their own households." Bashir was impressed by how knowledgeable Frima appeared to be regarding the matter. He had just thought she was a pretty guild wife who assisted her husband with his work in Gyedar, but that was an underestimation of her talents. Either Frima was a very aware and well-connected keeper of the household, or she was also something more.
"You could held up all out by keeping an eye out for that sort of thing. For Kojay K'bal too. He's getting worse and worse lately." Her hazel eyes flew upon him purposefully and Bashir thought he knew what else Frima was. While the Merchant Guild might not like dealing with slave traders or criminals like this Kojay K'bal, it was strange for the guild to ask outsides for help with this problem. They certainly had to have guards of their own to handle thieves or crowd control in the markets. Someone had showed up to react to the fight he had seen, after all.
"Frima-" Could he just ask her straight out like that, or would she react badly? There didn't seem to be anyone else close by. "Uh," he thought on his feet, "Will you go up on the roof with me? I know you were just up there, but you can tell me what the buildings are. That will make it more interesting."
"Certainly," Frima agreed, following her guest up.
The sun had nearly set. Bashir felt more nervous about standing on the open, rail-less roof of the building than he had expected. Whereas he was actually a little on the short side for a well-nourished man, he now felt uncomfortably tall, towering over the gentle curves of Gyedar.
"You wanted to ask me something?" Frima prompted him.
"Where can I find the sign of the letter 'nev?'"
"That'd be on the back door of the office. The door to my personal office," she answered primly. "Though I am not a proper member of the order, Shirka, I took the position myself to keep them out. Albright and I- we like this place to stay ours."