"Yukizora" (Samurai Warriors, Nobunaga/Ranmaru)
Title: Yukizora ("Snow-laden Sky")
Fandom: Samurai Warriors, Nobunaga/Ranmaru
Author: Isolde (gamera)
Recipient: Person from Porlock (murasakisilver)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Note: the characterizations in this are sort of a mix between the first game (Lady Noh) and the second game (the relationship between Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, and Ranmaru, which was far more historically accurate than the one in the first game). The bit about the poetry is straight from their historical relationship, rather than from the games. I make no claim, however, to being historically accurate in regards to battles or dates within the story.
"My lord," Ranmaru said quietly after the tent-flaps closed behind Mitsuhide, "I do not trust Lord Mitsuhide." It was very cold-- it would probably snow before the troops got any farther from Gifu, and slow their advance-- but Ranmaru didn't break his perfect seiza position with so much as a shiver. "If I may be so bold--"
"You may not." Nobunaga spoke matter-of-factly, because it simply wasn't Ranmaru's place to advise his lord on the intricacies of the court. "Mitsuhide is very important to me and to the whole of the Oda clan."
"If I may," the Lady Noh purred from their lord's other side, "I thought Mitsuhide's plan was lovely. Not quite so lovely as his poetry, to be sure, but close." The barb caught exactly where she wanted it to; Nobunaga twitched almost imperceptibly at his wife's honest appraisal of Mitsuhide's superior literary talent. "What did you think of Lord Mitsuhide's contemplations on the wind in the forest, Ranmaru? Surely it moved you as much as it did me."
"Hold your tongue," Nobunaga said, but it was the order of a bemusedly irritated husband and not that of a warlord. "And go find me Hideyoshi, if you're so eager to discuss contemplations on the wind in the forest. I'm sure he's got some you'd find absolutely fascinating, and I need to speak with him anyway."
"The only wind that monkey ever contemplates is the one that blows when he's speaking nonsense." Still, Noh stood and left the makeshift field pavillion to find Hideyoshi.
"And what do you think of the monkey, Ranmaru?" Nobunaga asked indulgently, turning to face his kneeling page. "Is he as untrustworthy as you believe Mitsuhide to be?"
"No, my lord," Ranmaru demurred. "Lord Hideyoshi is loyal to you. Moreso than any of your other retainers." He paused. "Moreso than the Lady Noh." Unspoken was the but you already knew that, because it simply wasn't a normal day without Noh attempting to rather halfheartedly kill her husband.
"What about you, Ranmaru?" Nobunaga pressed. "Where does your loyalty to me stand? Would you slip a knife in my back while you're in my bed, as the Lady Noh tries to? Would you stand by me on the battlefield but try to humiliate my in public as Mitshude does? Or are you like you perceive Hideyoshi to me, loyal to me in all things?"
"My lord, of course I am loyal to you!" Ranmaru seemed horrified by the very suggestion he might not be. He started to say something else, but was cut off by voices outside the entrance.
"You know, my lady, this camp suffers from a distinct lack of courtesans. I don't suppose you have a sister?" Hideyoshi asked, and danced away from whatever sort of blow she'd tried to land on him and right through the tent flap. "You wished to see me, Lord Nobunaga?" Noh, unsurprisingly, did not follow him inside. She would be off to whatever amusements of her own she had in the camp.
"Go and fetch the sake for Lord Hideyoshi, Ranmaru," Nobunaga ordered. That meant there was something to be discussed that Ranmaru wasn't party to, because normally he would send someone else for that. Ranmaru had to wonder if Nobunaga agreed with him, then, about who to trust and who to be wary of; he'd never been sent away during one of Mitsuhide's audiences, but his lord was meeting with Hideyoshi with both Ranmaru and Noh missing. It was the closest Nobunaga ever got to being alone and vulnerable.
When he returned, tray balanced precariously in his cold bare arms, they were talking about Mitsuhide. Hideyoshi didn't trust the man completely, either, it seemed.
"What sort of man tries to disgrace his lord before his other retainers?" Hideyoshi asked, voice slightly muffled by the thick fabric between their conversation and Ranmaru. "I don't like it, my lord. I don't like it at all."
"My lord," Ranmaru spoke up as soon as Hideyoshi had finished, announcing his presence before they noticed him lurking.
"Come in, Ranmaru." He did as he was told, ducking through the tent flap and kneeling down beside the two conversing men with his tray. "You'll have to pour for us, since the Lady Noh has decided we don't need her august company this afternoon. I'm sure you can handle the job."
He could, of course, but his hands were forced steady only by supreme concentration and effort. Neither the warlord nor his vassal showed any sign of the cold save the fact that their breath could be seen-- but then, they both wore heavier armor and had a great deal more experience and control than Ranmaru did. They drank and discussed their battle plans for the coming days as if it were a summer campaign and not one in danger of being stopped by the snow, and Ranmaru could do nothing but kneel beside his lord and wait for a command to go and do something, fetch something, to leave them. The Lady Noh might have been bold enough to leave her lord's company without an order to, but Ranmaru was not.
"I should go and make sure my men have everything ready for tomorrow, before they all bed down." Hideyoshi stood and bowed, crested helmet slipping down over his eyes comically before he caught it and righted it. "We wouldn't want people saying that Lord Nobunaga allows the monkey to lead a troop of his own kind, after all."
"Of course not." Nobunaga stood as well, and when Hideyoshi had gone he turned to Ranmaru. "Come, we should do the same before it gets any later." The sun had gone down while Nobunaga and Hideyoshi spoke, and soon the men would be settling in from the cold and lack of anything else to do in the dark. Ranmaru nodded and stood, first handing Nobunaga his sword and then following him from several respectful steps back. They got as far as Keiji Maeda's unit before Nobunaga seemed to notice that Ranmaru was keeping his respectful distance, and he paused. "Come here."
"Of course, my lord," Ranmaru answered, closing the gap between them easily and slipping under the edge of Nobunaga's cloak. "Do you think the snow will delay us tomorrow?"
"Only if a delay would serve me better than moving on," Nobunaga said, confident as always that the gods and the heavens looked favorably on his actions. "The rain and the fog have always served me well. There's no reason to believe that the snow will not, unless you think that the weather will turn on me like you think my officers will?" It was a jab at his earlier suspicion of Mitsuhide, the one he'd far overstepped his boundaries by speaking of. Ranmaru ducked his head in shame, not that Nobunaga could see it in the dark and with Ranmaru half behind him and half beside him. "It seems everyone here is in order. It's time we went back and prepared for tomorrow ourselves."
They were both silent for the rest of the walk back to Nobunaga's own tent. Unlike the pavillion, it was warm-- of course, there were people who took care of that sort of thing for the warlord, at least this early in the campaign. Such things would disappear when they marched in full force, but for now, in the beginning of the move from Gifu to Kyoto, there were small luxuries like that. And it was good that there were, since Ranmaru wasn't sure that he could handle the already-difficult buckles on Nobunaga's strange, foreign-style armor with such stiff fingers. He wasn't used to marching in the winter like this-- summer campaigns, yes, with their mosquitoes and the unrelenting heat and the sunburn, but not the deep ache of breathing the cold air and the stiff joints and the possibility of snow.
"This is your first winter campaign, isn't it?" Nobunaga asked suddenly, as if he could tell what Ranmaru was thinking. He nodded, concentrating too hard on unbuckling Nobunaga's cuirass, and then realized his mistake.
"Yes, my lord!" He answered properly, slightly flustered by the fact he'd forgotten basic respect. Nobunaga laughed, though, and put a steadying hand on Ranmaru's shoulder.
"Do not worry about such things, Ranmaru. The Lady Noh is returning to Gifu as we speak; it seems there were affairs there that required her presence. There will be no one around to catch you in such a small mistake." No one except Nobunaga himself, of course, and he was the only one Ranmaru worried about in that regard. "I am lucky to have someone who serves me so well and so faithfully; if failing to answer properly after a hard day of marching in the winter is your greatest failing, then I am even luckier in my choice of page than I had imagined."
There wasn't really anything Ranmaru could say to that, and so he remained silent as he set the cuirass aside. Nobunaga filled the silence for him, anyway, first with his plans for the next day and then, as Ranmaru finished and bent to unbuckle his own greaves-- the only real armor he wore-- his poetry and whether Ranmaru had practiced that art as he was supposed to.
"I have no such way with words as you and Lord Mitsuhide do, my lord." Ranmaru was quite glad that the tent was warm now, because his bare shins pressed against the ground as he sat again.
"I suppose one with your face doesn't need pretty words," Nobunaga agreed bemusedly. He reached out and pulled Ranmaru forward by the shoulder, so that the page practically tumbled right into him. "You're not normally so reserved. Did speaking out of turn about Mitsuhide really unsettle you so much?" He moved his hand up from Ranmaru's shoulder until he was holding the boy's chin. "I forgave you for that long ago."
"It's not that," Ranmaru explained, timidly returning to the subject that had gotten him into trouble earlier. "I really do not trust Lord Mitsuhide. Even Lord Hideyoshi agrees with me!" He stopped short after saying that, because he'd just revealed that he had overheard Nobunaga's conversation with Hideyoshi.
"I can only hope you spy on my enemies half so well as you spy on me." Nobunaga sighed, but shook his head instead of saying anything more on the subject. "Come to bed. There's a long day ahead of us, regardless of which warlord the heavens decide to side with in regards to snow."
Fandom: Samurai Warriors, Nobunaga/Ranmaru
Author: Isolde (gamera)
Recipient: Person from Porlock (murasakisilver)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Note: the characterizations in this are sort of a mix between the first game (Lady Noh) and the second game (the relationship between Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, and Ranmaru, which was far more historically accurate than the one in the first game). The bit about the poetry is straight from their historical relationship, rather than from the games. I make no claim, however, to being historically accurate in regards to battles or dates within the story.
"My lord," Ranmaru said quietly after the tent-flaps closed behind Mitsuhide, "I do not trust Lord Mitsuhide." It was very cold-- it would probably snow before the troops got any farther from Gifu, and slow their advance-- but Ranmaru didn't break his perfect seiza position with so much as a shiver. "If I may be so bold--"
"You may not." Nobunaga spoke matter-of-factly, because it simply wasn't Ranmaru's place to advise his lord on the intricacies of the court. "Mitsuhide is very important to me and to the whole of the Oda clan."
"If I may," the Lady Noh purred from their lord's other side, "I thought Mitsuhide's plan was lovely. Not quite so lovely as his poetry, to be sure, but close." The barb caught exactly where she wanted it to; Nobunaga twitched almost imperceptibly at his wife's honest appraisal of Mitsuhide's superior literary talent. "What did you think of Lord Mitsuhide's contemplations on the wind in the forest, Ranmaru? Surely it moved you as much as it did me."
"Hold your tongue," Nobunaga said, but it was the order of a bemusedly irritated husband and not that of a warlord. "And go find me Hideyoshi, if you're so eager to discuss contemplations on the wind in the forest. I'm sure he's got some you'd find absolutely fascinating, and I need to speak with him anyway."
"The only wind that monkey ever contemplates is the one that blows when he's speaking nonsense." Still, Noh stood and left the makeshift field pavillion to find Hideyoshi.
"And what do you think of the monkey, Ranmaru?" Nobunaga asked indulgently, turning to face his kneeling page. "Is he as untrustworthy as you believe Mitsuhide to be?"
"No, my lord," Ranmaru demurred. "Lord Hideyoshi is loyal to you. Moreso than any of your other retainers." He paused. "Moreso than the Lady Noh." Unspoken was the but you already knew that, because it simply wasn't a normal day without Noh attempting to rather halfheartedly kill her husband.
"What about you, Ranmaru?" Nobunaga pressed. "Where does your loyalty to me stand? Would you slip a knife in my back while you're in my bed, as the Lady Noh tries to? Would you stand by me on the battlefield but try to humiliate my in public as Mitshude does? Or are you like you perceive Hideyoshi to me, loyal to me in all things?"
"My lord, of course I am loyal to you!" Ranmaru seemed horrified by the very suggestion he might not be. He started to say something else, but was cut off by voices outside the entrance.
"You know, my lady, this camp suffers from a distinct lack of courtesans. I don't suppose you have a sister?" Hideyoshi asked, and danced away from whatever sort of blow she'd tried to land on him and right through the tent flap. "You wished to see me, Lord Nobunaga?" Noh, unsurprisingly, did not follow him inside. She would be off to whatever amusements of her own she had in the camp.
"Go and fetch the sake for Lord Hideyoshi, Ranmaru," Nobunaga ordered. That meant there was something to be discussed that Ranmaru wasn't party to, because normally he would send someone else for that. Ranmaru had to wonder if Nobunaga agreed with him, then, about who to trust and who to be wary of; he'd never been sent away during one of Mitsuhide's audiences, but his lord was meeting with Hideyoshi with both Ranmaru and Noh missing. It was the closest Nobunaga ever got to being alone and vulnerable.
When he returned, tray balanced precariously in his cold bare arms, they were talking about Mitsuhide. Hideyoshi didn't trust the man completely, either, it seemed.
"What sort of man tries to disgrace his lord before his other retainers?" Hideyoshi asked, voice slightly muffled by the thick fabric between their conversation and Ranmaru. "I don't like it, my lord. I don't like it at all."
"My lord," Ranmaru spoke up as soon as Hideyoshi had finished, announcing his presence before they noticed him lurking.
"Come in, Ranmaru." He did as he was told, ducking through the tent flap and kneeling down beside the two conversing men with his tray. "You'll have to pour for us, since the Lady Noh has decided we don't need her august company this afternoon. I'm sure you can handle the job."
He could, of course, but his hands were forced steady only by supreme concentration and effort. Neither the warlord nor his vassal showed any sign of the cold save the fact that their breath could be seen-- but then, they both wore heavier armor and had a great deal more experience and control than Ranmaru did. They drank and discussed their battle plans for the coming days as if it were a summer campaign and not one in danger of being stopped by the snow, and Ranmaru could do nothing but kneel beside his lord and wait for a command to go and do something, fetch something, to leave them. The Lady Noh might have been bold enough to leave her lord's company without an order to, but Ranmaru was not.
"I should go and make sure my men have everything ready for tomorrow, before they all bed down." Hideyoshi stood and bowed, crested helmet slipping down over his eyes comically before he caught it and righted it. "We wouldn't want people saying that Lord Nobunaga allows the monkey to lead a troop of his own kind, after all."
"Of course not." Nobunaga stood as well, and when Hideyoshi had gone he turned to Ranmaru. "Come, we should do the same before it gets any later." The sun had gone down while Nobunaga and Hideyoshi spoke, and soon the men would be settling in from the cold and lack of anything else to do in the dark. Ranmaru nodded and stood, first handing Nobunaga his sword and then following him from several respectful steps back. They got as far as Keiji Maeda's unit before Nobunaga seemed to notice that Ranmaru was keeping his respectful distance, and he paused. "Come here."
"Of course, my lord," Ranmaru answered, closing the gap between them easily and slipping under the edge of Nobunaga's cloak. "Do you think the snow will delay us tomorrow?"
"Only if a delay would serve me better than moving on," Nobunaga said, confident as always that the gods and the heavens looked favorably on his actions. "The rain and the fog have always served me well. There's no reason to believe that the snow will not, unless you think that the weather will turn on me like you think my officers will?" It was a jab at his earlier suspicion of Mitsuhide, the one he'd far overstepped his boundaries by speaking of. Ranmaru ducked his head in shame, not that Nobunaga could see it in the dark and with Ranmaru half behind him and half beside him. "It seems everyone here is in order. It's time we went back and prepared for tomorrow ourselves."
They were both silent for the rest of the walk back to Nobunaga's own tent. Unlike the pavillion, it was warm-- of course, there were people who took care of that sort of thing for the warlord, at least this early in the campaign. Such things would disappear when they marched in full force, but for now, in the beginning of the move from Gifu to Kyoto, there were small luxuries like that. And it was good that there were, since Ranmaru wasn't sure that he could handle the already-difficult buckles on Nobunaga's strange, foreign-style armor with such stiff fingers. He wasn't used to marching in the winter like this-- summer campaigns, yes, with their mosquitoes and the unrelenting heat and the sunburn, but not the deep ache of breathing the cold air and the stiff joints and the possibility of snow.
"This is your first winter campaign, isn't it?" Nobunaga asked suddenly, as if he could tell what Ranmaru was thinking. He nodded, concentrating too hard on unbuckling Nobunaga's cuirass, and then realized his mistake.
"Yes, my lord!" He answered properly, slightly flustered by the fact he'd forgotten basic respect. Nobunaga laughed, though, and put a steadying hand on Ranmaru's shoulder.
"Do not worry about such things, Ranmaru. The Lady Noh is returning to Gifu as we speak; it seems there were affairs there that required her presence. There will be no one around to catch you in such a small mistake." No one except Nobunaga himself, of course, and he was the only one Ranmaru worried about in that regard. "I am lucky to have someone who serves me so well and so faithfully; if failing to answer properly after a hard day of marching in the winter is your greatest failing, then I am even luckier in my choice of page than I had imagined."
There wasn't really anything Ranmaru could say to that, and so he remained silent as he set the cuirass aside. Nobunaga filled the silence for him, anyway, first with his plans for the next day and then, as Ranmaru finished and bent to unbuckle his own greaves-- the only real armor he wore-- his poetry and whether Ranmaru had practiced that art as he was supposed to.
"I have no such way with words as you and Lord Mitsuhide do, my lord." Ranmaru was quite glad that the tent was warm now, because his bare shins pressed against the ground as he sat again.
"I suppose one with your face doesn't need pretty words," Nobunaga agreed bemusedly. He reached out and pulled Ranmaru forward by the shoulder, so that the page practically tumbled right into him. "You're not normally so reserved. Did speaking out of turn about Mitsuhide really unsettle you so much?" He moved his hand up from Ranmaru's shoulder until he was holding the boy's chin. "I forgave you for that long ago."
"It's not that," Ranmaru explained, timidly returning to the subject that had gotten him into trouble earlier. "I really do not trust Lord Mitsuhide. Even Lord Hideyoshi agrees with me!" He stopped short after saying that, because he'd just revealed that he had overheard Nobunaga's conversation with Hideyoshi.
"I can only hope you spy on my enemies half so well as you spy on me." Nobunaga sighed, but shook his head instead of saying anything more on the subject. "Come to bed. There's a long day ahead of us, regardless of which warlord the heavens decide to side with in regards to snow."