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31_days2009-12-23 10:18 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-12-23 10:18 am
[Dec. 23] [Original] Teyez and Fado
Title: Teyez and Fado
Day/Theme: Dec. 23, 2009 "we were holding the future in hand"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Fado, Teyez, Bashir
Rating: PG-13
"Have you killed a lot of people, Fado?" Bashir asked. It wasn't strictly a polite question to ask anyone, but if Bashir had learned anything about his motley assortment of traveling companions it was that they were more than happy to share al manner of things he would hold in close confidence.
"Oh, a lot," Fado raised his eyebrows and candidly emphasized his words. He kicked his feet out, tapping the backs of his heels against the ramshackle white stone and mortar wall. "That's half the reason I was made a general- I was good at killing people and I was good at coming up with tactics that the men could understand and execute well. Some of the other generals before me were too cerebral and out of touch with the foot soldiers. They miscalculated their abilities and didn't know how to lead them either."
"That's where you were superb, sir," Lieutenant General Teyez Gan Alion agreed. "I've been trying to copy your command style all these years, but it just doesn't work out as well for me as it did for you." Teyez laughed, happy to shoot the breeze with his former commander after all these years. Though his rise in the ranks had been accelerated by Fado's departure, he still would've preferred staying in a lower position with Fado sticking around. Perhaps he couldn't get an accurate fix on his own strengths and weaknesses, but he thought he had been a better captain than he was a general. It more responsibility than he cared for.
"You got me through the war, Fado!" Teyez reminded him with a comradely slap on the back. Bashir smiled around Fado's back at Teyez. He was yet another link in the chain of good feelings Fado appeared to have attracted wherever he went. He was extraordinary in that regard. Even Emperor Ilekano, who thought of Fado as having deserted him, held only a grudge of slight annoyance with him (he thought Fado was squandering his natural talents).
"If I hadn't gotten you through the reunification wars, you would've done it on your own, Teyez, or found someone else to watch your back if you really needed it." Fado tried to shrink from the acclaim, but he was still smiling. Just a glance at the garb of the two old allies showed the disparate paths they had taken over the last fourteen years. Fado's laced sandals and dirty feet versus Teyez's metal-tipped boots, Fado's loose green robe versus Teyez's goldish armor and black cloak. Even Fado's hair hung unfettered while Teyez's was tightly bound. If clothes were any indication, it was easy to fell who was in bondage and who was truly free.
"I killed a lot of people too, you know," the lieutenant general remarked. He sounded a little too cheerful. He obviously wasn't thinking too hard about the actual killing.
"Was it hard...to kill people?" Bashir followed this train of thought toward its ultimate end in his curiosity.
"At first," Teyez shrugged. Now he was thinking about it. His goofy, laidback smile faded into a solemn stare past Simcha and Saselia as they plied their services on the other side of the road, past the grassy hills, and even past the clouds beyond that. He was seeing into the past, and what he saw was not pretty. "But I suppose a person can get used to anything when they do it often. I think it might be hard again though now, if I had to. It's been a long time."
"The first time is the hardest," Fado agreed. But he didn't think it had been as hard for him as it had been for Teyez (he had seen Teyez, just a common soldier, kill his first man, so he felt he could judge). And then he couldn't admit that he wasn't sure the rest of Teyez's assessment was the same for him. It had been slightly more than fourteen years, but he didn't think it would be hard to do it again. That was the difference between him and young, not so young anymore but always young in his mind, young Teyez Gan Alion. That was why he had to stay a pilgrim. That was why he couldn't carry a sword. It would be too easy to kill again.
"Just be happy that no one will probably ever expect you to kill for your country, friend," Teyez continued his friendly dialogue with Bashir. He and Fado had similar tastes in friends, and he could see that Fado cared for this young man more than most. "My generation took care of most of that for you. The emperor's not drafting anymore, so you can sit easy and live a pretty peaceful life."
"I don't think I could do it. ...Even if I was supposed to. I have a weak stomach for blood." He looked over at Saselia as he said it, glad that she was far enough away not to hear him. She knew firsthand how light-headed he could become over the most everyday sort of violence. He was as flimsy as a lady of the court- and if his experiences at court had taught him anything, he was actually less hardy than many of them. He didn't think he'd ever seen Princess Portia flinch at anything. She even went along with her half-brothers on their hunting trips, he'd heard, and carried the birds they bagged on her horse.
"Heh," Teyez chuckled. He had once thought the same of himself, but circumstances had proven him wrong. Being placed in a kill or be killed situation could bring out unexpected facets of a man. That didn't mean he was proud of any of it, but he couldn't deny his past. If he had chosen differently, he might be in a mass grave on the border of Shirikh right now. And making it through the war and up the ranks to serve under Fado had brought him to this point, where he was the best paid and most secure in his life. His father had been a chicken farmer. He had never dreamt of being anything else himself, but here he was. A lieutenant general, maintaining the garrison at Alzhantan. He'd had to do some unhappy things to do it, but he was at peace now. He was happy. ...He had missed Fado though.
"It is true that some men couldn't make it though," Fado remembered. "Some who were forced into the front lines anyway were killed. Others were given positions away from the actual battlegrounds, making maps and keeping statistics for the generals or cooking meals, making camp, and carrying the baggage. An army doesn't work on weapons alone. There's a lot that goes into maintaining a war." He could imagine Bashir as a war clerk, following him across a silent battleground, counting up the dead of both sides, tallying the bodies one by one on a pad of paper. He was glad that he wasn't.
Day/Theme: Dec. 23, 2009 "we were holding the future in hand"
Series: Original
Character/Pairing: Fado, Teyez, Bashir
Rating: PG-13
"Have you killed a lot of people, Fado?" Bashir asked. It wasn't strictly a polite question to ask anyone, but if Bashir had learned anything about his motley assortment of traveling companions it was that they were more than happy to share al manner of things he would hold in close confidence.
"Oh, a lot," Fado raised his eyebrows and candidly emphasized his words. He kicked his feet out, tapping the backs of his heels against the ramshackle white stone and mortar wall. "That's half the reason I was made a general- I was good at killing people and I was good at coming up with tactics that the men could understand and execute well. Some of the other generals before me were too cerebral and out of touch with the foot soldiers. They miscalculated their abilities and didn't know how to lead them either."
"That's where you were superb, sir," Lieutenant General Teyez Gan Alion agreed. "I've been trying to copy your command style all these years, but it just doesn't work out as well for me as it did for you." Teyez laughed, happy to shoot the breeze with his former commander after all these years. Though his rise in the ranks had been accelerated by Fado's departure, he still would've preferred staying in a lower position with Fado sticking around. Perhaps he couldn't get an accurate fix on his own strengths and weaknesses, but he thought he had been a better captain than he was a general. It more responsibility than he cared for.
"You got me through the war, Fado!" Teyez reminded him with a comradely slap on the back. Bashir smiled around Fado's back at Teyez. He was yet another link in the chain of good feelings Fado appeared to have attracted wherever he went. He was extraordinary in that regard. Even Emperor Ilekano, who thought of Fado as having deserted him, held only a grudge of slight annoyance with him (he thought Fado was squandering his natural talents).
"If I hadn't gotten you through the reunification wars, you would've done it on your own, Teyez, or found someone else to watch your back if you really needed it." Fado tried to shrink from the acclaim, but he was still smiling. Just a glance at the garb of the two old allies showed the disparate paths they had taken over the last fourteen years. Fado's laced sandals and dirty feet versus Teyez's metal-tipped boots, Fado's loose green robe versus Teyez's goldish armor and black cloak. Even Fado's hair hung unfettered while Teyez's was tightly bound. If clothes were any indication, it was easy to fell who was in bondage and who was truly free.
"I killed a lot of people too, you know," the lieutenant general remarked. He sounded a little too cheerful. He obviously wasn't thinking too hard about the actual killing.
"Was it hard...to kill people?" Bashir followed this train of thought toward its ultimate end in his curiosity.
"At first," Teyez shrugged. Now he was thinking about it. His goofy, laidback smile faded into a solemn stare past Simcha and Saselia as they plied their services on the other side of the road, past the grassy hills, and even past the clouds beyond that. He was seeing into the past, and what he saw was not pretty. "But I suppose a person can get used to anything when they do it often. I think it might be hard again though now, if I had to. It's been a long time."
"The first time is the hardest," Fado agreed. But he didn't think it had been as hard for him as it had been for Teyez (he had seen Teyez, just a common soldier, kill his first man, so he felt he could judge). And then he couldn't admit that he wasn't sure the rest of Teyez's assessment was the same for him. It had been slightly more than fourteen years, but he didn't think it would be hard to do it again. That was the difference between him and young, not so young anymore but always young in his mind, young Teyez Gan Alion. That was why he had to stay a pilgrim. That was why he couldn't carry a sword. It would be too easy to kill again.
"Just be happy that no one will probably ever expect you to kill for your country, friend," Teyez continued his friendly dialogue with Bashir. He and Fado had similar tastes in friends, and he could see that Fado cared for this young man more than most. "My generation took care of most of that for you. The emperor's not drafting anymore, so you can sit easy and live a pretty peaceful life."
"I don't think I could do it. ...Even if I was supposed to. I have a weak stomach for blood." He looked over at Saselia as he said it, glad that she was far enough away not to hear him. She knew firsthand how light-headed he could become over the most everyday sort of violence. He was as flimsy as a lady of the court- and if his experiences at court had taught him anything, he was actually less hardy than many of them. He didn't think he'd ever seen Princess Portia flinch at anything. She even went along with her half-brothers on their hunting trips, he'd heard, and carried the birds they bagged on her horse.
"Heh," Teyez chuckled. He had once thought the same of himself, but circumstances had proven him wrong. Being placed in a kill or be killed situation could bring out unexpected facets of a man. That didn't mean he was proud of any of it, but he couldn't deny his past. If he had chosen differently, he might be in a mass grave on the border of Shirikh right now. And making it through the war and up the ranks to serve under Fado had brought him to this point, where he was the best paid and most secure in his life. His father had been a chicken farmer. He had never dreamt of being anything else himself, but here he was. A lieutenant general, maintaining the garrison at Alzhantan. He'd had to do some unhappy things to do it, but he was at peace now. He was happy. ...He had missed Fado though.
"It is true that some men couldn't make it though," Fado remembered. "Some who were forced into the front lines anyway were killed. Others were given positions away from the actual battlegrounds, making maps and keeping statistics for the generals or cooking meals, making camp, and carrying the baggage. An army doesn't work on weapons alone. There's a lot that goes into maintaining a war." He could imagine Bashir as a war clerk, following him across a silent battleground, counting up the dead of both sides, tallying the bodies one by one on a pad of paper. He was glad that he wasn't.