[Wild Roses] Sun Queen
Title: redirection of force
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Phoebe, Aifiric
Prompt: 63D "do not disturb"
Word Count: 321
Notes: Before trading across multiple realities was really feasible, gold, red and saffron dyes were incredibly expensive and as a result almost exclusively the province of the nobility. Then Ian happened. Then several bright young things had a brilliant way of making a LOT of money for not a whole lot of cargo space, and there was a massive market glut.
She could see the explosion about to happen.
"Iarlaith," she said instead, neatly stealing her husband's wind, "would you step outside for a moment?"
Her husband's brother cast her a tiny grateful look as she stood to follow him, and closed the door behind him. After a few moments draping sound-dampening spells across the threshold and the walls, she turned back to her husband. Told him evenly, "You were about to order him to seize shipments."
"I was, yes," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. "This can't be allowed to continue."
"No, it can't," she agreed, spread her hands wide and started sketching in the air. "We seize shipments, we establish ourselves as a policing force for the importation of dyes. We'll have to set the price, and any smuggler who survives the trip can undersell us dramatically, feeding the new-birthed industry of 'cheat the crown and live'." She watched his scowl deepen, continued, "The heads of families will be outraged, because we've interfered with commerce, and if possible they will begin to shift their networks of business elsewhere. We can't force them to stay, not with the Trick so widely known."
"So what can we do, Phoebe?" he asked, half-dismissing, "Let the market collapse and pick up the pieces afterwards? There will be children in gold and brocade, fishermen's wives imitating you--" He flicked his hands, then stopped, frowning at her. "You've got a plan, haven't you."
She gave him a sweet smile. "Whatever makes you think so?"
"You never smile about affairs of state unless you've got a plan you're fairly sure will serve your purpose. Share the spoils, wife mine."
She laughed. "Challenge the tailors."
He blinked, then a light dawned. " . . . This should be interesting. I don't think I've worn anything but gold brown or red since I was a hundred and fifty."
She grinned, then, and turned back to the door.
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Phoebe, Aifiric
Prompt: 63D "do not disturb"
Word Count: 321
Notes: Before trading across multiple realities was really feasible, gold, red and saffron dyes were incredibly expensive and as a result almost exclusively the province of the nobility. Then Ian happened. Then several bright young things had a brilliant way of making a LOT of money for not a whole lot of cargo space, and there was a massive market glut.
She could see the explosion about to happen.
"Iarlaith," she said instead, neatly stealing her husband's wind, "would you step outside for a moment?"
Her husband's brother cast her a tiny grateful look as she stood to follow him, and closed the door behind him. After a few moments draping sound-dampening spells across the threshold and the walls, she turned back to her husband. Told him evenly, "You were about to order him to seize shipments."
"I was, yes," he replied, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at her. "This can't be allowed to continue."
"No, it can't," she agreed, spread her hands wide and started sketching in the air. "We seize shipments, we establish ourselves as a policing force for the importation of dyes. We'll have to set the price, and any smuggler who survives the trip can undersell us dramatically, feeding the new-birthed industry of 'cheat the crown and live'." She watched his scowl deepen, continued, "The heads of families will be outraged, because we've interfered with commerce, and if possible they will begin to shift their networks of business elsewhere. We can't force them to stay, not with the Trick so widely known."
"So what can we do, Phoebe?" he asked, half-dismissing, "Let the market collapse and pick up the pieces afterwards? There will be children in gold and brocade, fishermen's wives imitating you--" He flicked his hands, then stopped, frowning at her. "You've got a plan, haven't you."
She gave him a sweet smile. "Whatever makes you think so?"
"You never smile about affairs of state unless you've got a plan you're fairly sure will serve your purpose. Share the spoils, wife mine."
She laughed. "Challenge the tailors."
He blinked, then a light dawned. " . . . This should be interesting. I don't think I've worn anything but gold brown or red since I was a hundred and fifty."
She grinned, then, and turned back to the door.