Entry 08 - Power Play
Title: Power Play
Entry Number: 08
Author: luna_moonsilver
Rating: PG
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 1,099
A/N: This is more of a montage piece of the relationships between six of my characters (I have a lot of 'verses, okay?); Mei Ling and Jun are engaged to be married; Ramelan is the crown prince of his country and Michal his servant; Lang is the leader of a criminal gang and Lana works for him.
Mei Ling hadn't forgotten about Jun's demands on her to marry him. She hadn't forgotten it the way she would never forget Shuang spurning her - though of course the two were quite different things, from quite different people. Still, Jun needed to know that she wasn't going to take all this from him. She wasn't the sort of girl to sit there and take it; but this was an area where she needed to tread carefully. After all, soon his reputation would be her reputation. She couldn't afford to ruin her reputation.
It was simple enough to bribe the tailor to make up Jun's suit so that it didn't fit and the look on her fiancé's face was entirely worth it. Mei Ling stood there and smirked. It was nice, but not enough. So she sabotaged some other, little things too; made sure someone else could book the chef they would use, made the place Jun wanted them to marry unavailable. (She had every intention of changing that back because, she was woman enough to admit, the place was beautiful. But for now, she was trying to make him suffer.)
When he came to her, his face red with fury, she kissed him. He was surprised at first but kissed her back even as she tightened her fingers in his hair.
She pulled his head back and laughed when he blinked stupidly, laughed when he realised there was a knife at his throat.
"What's going on, Mei Ling?" he asked; rather calmly, she thought, all things considered.
"We are getting married, Jun. If you ever, ever treat me the way you did when you told me to marry you again, I am going to take this knife and make you even less of a man. Do you understand me?"
He scowled, but nodded slowly.
"Good," Mei Ling replied. She dropped the knife to the floor and kissed him again. It was very pleasing when he didn't even resist.
*
Michal paced. The air was so alive, still; weeks since the magic had exploded, erupted, around him, and yet it was still so concentrated in areas - it was amazing.
Ramelan wouldn't let him out. He'd ransacked the house the girl had been staying in, when he'd found it - and Ramelan said he'd caught the attention of other people; the prince didn't want people asking questions.
Michal thought, to hell with it all and what do I care, but still he paced this tiny room in want of one thing.
Blood.
All the magic in the air of all the world would never feel as good as that first explosion of sparks after a mouthful of dragon's blood; and Michal didn't ever want it to. Then other people would know what it was like, would want it - and Michal did not want to share.
So he paced.
The sun went down and the prince came into his room. This wasn't new; the prince had taken to visiting him, like a master visits his pet, soon after the botched attempt to find the girl.
He stood in the doorway, half in shadow as if that somehow made him look more mysterious, more forbidding. Michal thought it made him look like a child trying to hide from a monster and turned away in disgust.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"How did the magic reappear?" Ramelan asked him. "There are reports of random magical - events - happening all over the city. I can't think of what's going on in the countryside. What happened?"
Michal shrugged. "You know how much I know of magic, master," he said quietly. He leaned against the window frame and stared up at the dark sky. "I can only guess, and it is likely my guess will be wrong."
He heard Ramelan sigh and the sound of his footsteps as he came into the room properly. Something like bloodlust clouded his vision. Yes, come closer, come closer-
"What is your guess?"
"A dragon," Michal said. He looked up at the moon, tinted yellow by his strange sight. "A dragon has the ability to grant magic, so maybe-"
"The dragons were all killed a century ago," Ramelan protested.
"Clearly not all. One survived."
Ramelan cursed. Michal turned to look at him, still leaning against the window frame. "It is entirely possible, master. It means-" More blood, more- "There could be a spike in magic users, no?"
Ramelan nodded. "It does make some sense, Michal. But you cannot work alone in this. We need- You need-"
"I need no one!" Michal shouted and surged forwards, grabbing the prince by the throat and pushing him back against the wall. He could do it, he could kill him and then, then-
"If you kill me, you'll get no more dragon blood," Ramelan said and the words were solid, a true threat. Michal let go of him and stepped back. The prince stood straight, rubbing the red marks now visible on his neck.
"I'll find others to go with you," he said. "You're a liability on your own."
Michal nodded. "Yes, master."
*
Everybody thought Lang a strong man because he fought, because he was brave and a little reckless.
He was never reckless. He was smart.
He watched.
He needed to know what to do with his new arrivals; his son would forever be stubborn and would forever serve his master before his father - and the girl, whilst she would be relatively easy to influence, would listen to their words over his. The boy trusted no one. The others were uninteresting to him; they were smart but would never join anything they believed wrong - but they were weak. He had no interest in controlling them, but knew how to, if it ever became necessary.
Lang watched Lana.
She was different; she had ties to these people but they all seemed to be casual bonds, the kind that could be cut loose without warning and there would be no lasting hurt to either side. He hadn't controlled her before so much as ordered her around - and there was a difference. She worked for him. He needed leverage now, if they were going to stay here.
When he saw her coming out of the scholar, Aldan's, room, he could have laughed aloud.
Instead, he settled for stopping in the hall, a smirk on his face. "Even assassins from Alraeish have their weaknesses," he said.
She froze and her eyes narrowed. "If you hurt him-"
"I have no intention of doing so," Lang said. "So don't make me."
Entry Number: 08
Author: luna_moonsilver
Rating: PG
Genre: Fantasy
Word count: 1,099
A/N: This is more of a montage piece of the relationships between six of my characters (I have a lot of 'verses, okay?); Mei Ling and Jun are engaged to be married; Ramelan is the crown prince of his country and Michal his servant; Lang is the leader of a criminal gang and Lana works for him.
Mei Ling hadn't forgotten about Jun's demands on her to marry him. She hadn't forgotten it the way she would never forget Shuang spurning her - though of course the two were quite different things, from quite different people. Still, Jun needed to know that she wasn't going to take all this from him. She wasn't the sort of girl to sit there and take it; but this was an area where she needed to tread carefully. After all, soon his reputation would be her reputation. She couldn't afford to ruin her reputation.
It was simple enough to bribe the tailor to make up Jun's suit so that it didn't fit and the look on her fiancé's face was entirely worth it. Mei Ling stood there and smirked. It was nice, but not enough. So she sabotaged some other, little things too; made sure someone else could book the chef they would use, made the place Jun wanted them to marry unavailable. (She had every intention of changing that back because, she was woman enough to admit, the place was beautiful. But for now, she was trying to make him suffer.)
When he came to her, his face red with fury, she kissed him. He was surprised at first but kissed her back even as she tightened her fingers in his hair.
She pulled his head back and laughed when he blinked stupidly, laughed when he realised there was a knife at his throat.
"What's going on, Mei Ling?" he asked; rather calmly, she thought, all things considered.
"We are getting married, Jun. If you ever, ever treat me the way you did when you told me to marry you again, I am going to take this knife and make you even less of a man. Do you understand me?"
He scowled, but nodded slowly.
"Good," Mei Ling replied. She dropped the knife to the floor and kissed him again. It was very pleasing when he didn't even resist.
*
Michal paced. The air was so alive, still; weeks since the magic had exploded, erupted, around him, and yet it was still so concentrated in areas - it was amazing.
Ramelan wouldn't let him out. He'd ransacked the house the girl had been staying in, when he'd found it - and Ramelan said he'd caught the attention of other people; the prince didn't want people asking questions.
Michal thought, to hell with it all and what do I care, but still he paced this tiny room in want of one thing.
Blood.
All the magic in the air of all the world would never feel as good as that first explosion of sparks after a mouthful of dragon's blood; and Michal didn't ever want it to. Then other people would know what it was like, would want it - and Michal did not want to share.
So he paced.
The sun went down and the prince came into his room. This wasn't new; the prince had taken to visiting him, like a master visits his pet, soon after the botched attempt to find the girl.
He stood in the doorway, half in shadow as if that somehow made him look more mysterious, more forbidding. Michal thought it made him look like a child trying to hide from a monster and turned away in disgust.
"What do you want?" he asked.
"How did the magic reappear?" Ramelan asked him. "There are reports of random magical - events - happening all over the city. I can't think of what's going on in the countryside. What happened?"
Michal shrugged. "You know how much I know of magic, master," he said quietly. He leaned against the window frame and stared up at the dark sky. "I can only guess, and it is likely my guess will be wrong."
He heard Ramelan sigh and the sound of his footsteps as he came into the room properly. Something like bloodlust clouded his vision. Yes, come closer, come closer-
"What is your guess?"
"A dragon," Michal said. He looked up at the moon, tinted yellow by his strange sight. "A dragon has the ability to grant magic, so maybe-"
"The dragons were all killed a century ago," Ramelan protested.
"Clearly not all. One survived."
Ramelan cursed. Michal turned to look at him, still leaning against the window frame. "It is entirely possible, master. It means-" More blood, more- "There could be a spike in magic users, no?"
Ramelan nodded. "It does make some sense, Michal. But you cannot work alone in this. We need- You need-"
"I need no one!" Michal shouted and surged forwards, grabbing the prince by the throat and pushing him back against the wall. He could do it, he could kill him and then, then-
"If you kill me, you'll get no more dragon blood," Ramelan said and the words were solid, a true threat. Michal let go of him and stepped back. The prince stood straight, rubbing the red marks now visible on his neck.
"I'll find others to go with you," he said. "You're a liability on your own."
Michal nodded. "Yes, master."
*
Everybody thought Lang a strong man because he fought, because he was brave and a little reckless.
He was never reckless. He was smart.
He watched.
He needed to know what to do with his new arrivals; his son would forever be stubborn and would forever serve his master before his father - and the girl, whilst she would be relatively easy to influence, would listen to their words over his. The boy trusted no one. The others were uninteresting to him; they were smart but would never join anything they believed wrong - but they were weak. He had no interest in controlling them, but knew how to, if it ever became necessary.
Lang watched Lana.
She was different; she had ties to these people but they all seemed to be casual bonds, the kind that could be cut loose without warning and there would be no lasting hurt to either side. He hadn't controlled her before so much as ordered her around - and there was a difference. She worked for him. He needed leverage now, if they were going to stay here.
When he saw her coming out of the scholar, Aldan's, room, he could have laughed aloud.
Instead, he settled for stopping in the hall, a smirk on his face. "Even assassins from Alraeish have their weaknesses," he said.
She froze and her eyes narrowed. "If you hurt him-"
"I have no intention of doing so," Lang said. "So don't make me."