Boxing Day! Still.
Title: rules of diplomacy
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Sean and a Hand
Prompt: 'dismemberment' and a Hand - non list requests
Word Count: 561
Rating: all ages
Notes: after the wars, before the spawn of Lin and Hazel started putting in appearances.
She'd read the reports twice, and had been reduced to flipping through them aimlessly when her sovereign lord finally put in an appearance.
She expertly fanned the papers out in one hand, hid her face briefly with the sheaf--he grinned--then set them down neatly, aligning the edges together.
"Is this where," she inquired, as carefully careless as if she were remarking on the commuter ferry schedules, "we send tactful letters hinting around threats of death and dismemberment, or am I remembering my rules of diplomacy wrong?"
He started laughing as he collapsed into the chair across from her. She caught herself thinking of his father's laughter in contrast to his own, then firmly tamped down the thought when it started going badly for his father.
"The rules," he said when he could form words, "imply a stepwise process, eventually arriving at death and dismemberment by way of property damage and stalled trade negotiations. As our opposition have jumped past arguments into property damage without being so kind as to remark that they have a grievance with us, I'd ordinarily be inclined myself to leap past letters into cannon fire. But that seems a mildly inappropriate escalation. Would you agree?"
She paused, considering the several back and forth layers he'd committed to the conversation, then leaned back in the chair, steepling her fingers together. "We have property damage, but no complaints of perceived wrongdoing, verbally recorded or in letters. Our reports--" she reached out, spread the papers out in a small fan on the table "--imply that the opposition knows who they're dealing with. Do we have anything like absolute knowledge of that?"
A tiny, oddly proud smile flitted across her King's face before he shook his head. "Nothing better than implications and assumptions."
She squashed another comparison between Kings as she leaned forward, flicking through the papers again. "If we're dealing with an attack lacking understanding, sending letters isn't going to do a thing, is it."
"Can't say it would," he agreed.
"Sending naval ships--even aside from all new accusations of empire-building from various ambassadors--would be a bit overkill, as well."
"The accusations do get tiresome."
She'd seen him build miniature bonfires with angry letters. 'Tiresome' was one word for it, she supposed, lifting an eyebrow at him. He hid a grin.
"We need someone to go out there," she told him flatly, ignoring the smile in his eyes.
He nodded, starting to flip an invisible coin through his fingers as he leaned back in his own chair. "Have anyone in mind?"
"Well, that depends, your majesty." She hid a smile of her own as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Do we want a colony, a trading partner, or just for them to stop setting fire to our docks and warehouses?"
He laughed. "We have to supply colonies. I'm thinking a lack of fires would be preferable."
She nodded half-absently, flicking lists around in her head. As she opened her mouth to suggest a few names, he held up a card, with an ink sketch of a particular Hand's jade and gold designs.
She closed her mouth with a snap, then, through her teeth, "Your habit of using me to check your work is intensely irritating, your majesty."
And oddly warming, but she'd never admit that. Or the glow that her new King grinning at her gave her.
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Sean and a Hand
Prompt: 'dismemberment' and a Hand - non list requests
Word Count: 561
Rating: all ages
Notes: after the wars, before the spawn of Lin and Hazel started putting in appearances.
She'd read the reports twice, and had been reduced to flipping through them aimlessly when her sovereign lord finally put in an appearance.
She expertly fanned the papers out in one hand, hid her face briefly with the sheaf--he grinned--then set them down neatly, aligning the edges together.
"Is this where," she inquired, as carefully careless as if she were remarking on the commuter ferry schedules, "we send tactful letters hinting around threats of death and dismemberment, or am I remembering my rules of diplomacy wrong?"
He started laughing as he collapsed into the chair across from her. She caught herself thinking of his father's laughter in contrast to his own, then firmly tamped down the thought when it started going badly for his father.
"The rules," he said when he could form words, "imply a stepwise process, eventually arriving at death and dismemberment by way of property damage and stalled trade negotiations. As our opposition have jumped past arguments into property damage without being so kind as to remark that they have a grievance with us, I'd ordinarily be inclined myself to leap past letters into cannon fire. But that seems a mildly inappropriate escalation. Would you agree?"
She paused, considering the several back and forth layers he'd committed to the conversation, then leaned back in the chair, steepling her fingers together. "We have property damage, but no complaints of perceived wrongdoing, verbally recorded or in letters. Our reports--" she reached out, spread the papers out in a small fan on the table "--imply that the opposition knows who they're dealing with. Do we have anything like absolute knowledge of that?"
A tiny, oddly proud smile flitted across her King's face before he shook his head. "Nothing better than implications and assumptions."
She squashed another comparison between Kings as she leaned forward, flicking through the papers again. "If we're dealing with an attack lacking understanding, sending letters isn't going to do a thing, is it."
"Can't say it would," he agreed.
"Sending naval ships--even aside from all new accusations of empire-building from various ambassadors--would be a bit overkill, as well."
"The accusations do get tiresome."
She'd seen him build miniature bonfires with angry letters. 'Tiresome' was one word for it, she supposed, lifting an eyebrow at him. He hid a grin.
"We need someone to go out there," she told him flatly, ignoring the smile in his eyes.
He nodded, starting to flip an invisible coin through his fingers as he leaned back in his own chair. "Have anyone in mind?"
"Well, that depends, your majesty." She hid a smile of her own as he raised an eyebrow at her. "Do we want a colony, a trading partner, or just for them to stop setting fire to our docks and warehouses?"
He laughed. "We have to supply colonies. I'm thinking a lack of fires would be preferable."
She nodded half-absently, flicking lists around in her head. As she opened her mouth to suggest a few names, he held up a card, with an ink sketch of a particular Hand's jade and gold designs.
She closed her mouth with a snap, then, through her teeth, "Your habit of using me to check your work is intensely irritating, your majesty."
And oddly warming, but she'd never admit that. Or the glow that her new King grinning at her gave her.