April Flowers, prompt 24 - "Mothers and Daughters"
Title: Mothers and Daughters (first part)
Author: shimotsuki
Rating & Warnings: PG, no warnings
Characters/Pairing: Iselle, Ista, Liss (Iselle/Bergon, Ista/Illvin, probably Liss/Foix)
Prompt: #24, image of a fortress by the sea
Format & Word Count: WIP | 696 words so far
Summary: After the conquest of Visping, Iselle sees her mother for the first time in months. But this new Ista is someone Iselle has never known.
Author's Notes: I've been wanting to write this for a couple of weeks now, but I haven't had time to work it all out -- so here is the first part, and I'll be posting the rest at my own journal here in a few more days. (Also, I've just realized that this story is oddly appropriate to be posting on Mother's Day.)
Mothers and Daughters
“And be careful to specify that his jurisdiction extends only over the district of Soriknet,” Iselle warned, “because I think his ambitions are greater than that. But there are many other men just as deserving as he, and there are only so many districts in Borasnen for me to distribute.”
“Very good, Royina,” said Learned Bonneret. He bowed to Iselle and to Betriz and returned to his own desk, in the antechamber of Iselle’s office, to compose the next in a long series of official letters.
Iselle took a moment to gaze out the window, at the sea glinting deep blue in the autumn sunshine. Bergon, who had grown up with the sea, had gallantly ceded this office on the outer wall of Visping’s castle keep to her. Iselle thought she would never tire of watching the waves change color under the sky.
Administrative decisions about the running of Visping and its territory, the former Roknari princedom of Borasnen, were much less compelling. But they were necessary, and so Iselle turned back to face the next sheaf of notes on her desk.
But then came the quick, light footsteps of a page in a hurry, and she looked up again.
“The Dowager Royina arrives!” cried the boy, slightly out of breath.
At last. Iselle had been expecting her mother’s party for days.
“Come on,” she whispered to Betriz, “let’s go and see!”
She pushed back her chair, all thoughts of Borasnen’s new provincar set firmly aside for the moment, and ran across the corridor into Bergon’s office, with Betriz right behind her. Bergon’s view of the castle courtyard might not be as picturesque as her view of the sea, but it certainly had its uses.
~*~
The royal offices were too high above the courtyard for Iselle to see faces, but the arrival of the Dowager Royina Ista’s party was unmistakable, even just from the stir it was causing among the grooms and servants. The first through the gate was a solid dark figure that could only be Foix dy Gura, followed by two more soldier-brothers. After them came a woman with light hair and a thick gray traveling cloak, small in stature but sitting with the straight confident posture of someone in charge of things-
Her mother.
That was her mother.
Iselle knew perfectly well that Ista wasn’t mad, not any more. That she had looked after the old Provincara for the last three years of her life, and had eventually taken over the management of the household at Valenda (with dy Ferrej’s help). Iselle and her mother had exchanged letters, and had even spent a little time together around the time of her coronation and again right after Isara was born.
But Iselle hadn’t seen Ista since she had acquired her new status as a saint of the Bastard- a status that Iselle didn’t understand, not really, although Cazaril assured her adamantly that it was real.
This confidence-this sense of rightness in herself-that Ista seemed to have was something that Iselle had never seen in her mother, in all of her life.
The rest of the party had come through the gate by now. There was a fat man all in white, who must be the divine of the Bastard that her mother had written about. Iselle saw a slim girl with a long dark braid, and a short bandy-legged man, and two more soldier-brothers.
And a very tall man who slid off his horse with athletic grace and sped to the dowager royina’s side even faster than the castle groom with the mounting block. Iselle watched as her mother took the man’s hand and slid to the ground-and kept hold of that hand a few moments longer than she really needed to.
That must be-
“Lord Illvin dy Arbanos,” said Cazaril, coming up behind them at the window. “Chalion owes him much.”
Iselle nodded, absently. She had heard about this one’s role in the fight against the Jokonans, and his work as translator and negotiator on behalf of Chalion-Ibra in the months since. But apparently she hadn’t heard everything about dy Arbanos.
~*~
To be continued here
.
Author: shimotsuki
Rating & Warnings: PG, no warnings
Characters/Pairing: Iselle, Ista, Liss (Iselle/Bergon, Ista/Illvin, probably Liss/Foix)
Prompt: #24, image of a fortress by the sea
Format & Word Count: WIP | 696 words so far
Summary: After the conquest of Visping, Iselle sees her mother for the first time in months. But this new Ista is someone Iselle has never known.
Author's Notes: I've been wanting to write this for a couple of weeks now, but I haven't had time to work it all out -- so here is the first part, and I'll be posting the rest at my own journal here in a few more days. (Also, I've just realized that this story is oddly appropriate to be posting on Mother's Day.)
Mothers and Daughters
“And be careful to specify that his jurisdiction extends only over the district of Soriknet,” Iselle warned, “because I think his ambitions are greater than that. But there are many other men just as deserving as he, and there are only so many districts in Borasnen for me to distribute.”
“Very good, Royina,” said Learned Bonneret. He bowed to Iselle and to Betriz and returned to his own desk, in the antechamber of Iselle’s office, to compose the next in a long series of official letters.
Iselle took a moment to gaze out the window, at the sea glinting deep blue in the autumn sunshine. Bergon, who had grown up with the sea, had gallantly ceded this office on the outer wall of Visping’s castle keep to her. Iselle thought she would never tire of watching the waves change color under the sky.
Administrative decisions about the running of Visping and its territory, the former Roknari princedom of Borasnen, were much less compelling. But they were necessary, and so Iselle turned back to face the next sheaf of notes on her desk.
But then came the quick, light footsteps of a page in a hurry, and she looked up again.
“The Dowager Royina arrives!” cried the boy, slightly out of breath.
At last. Iselle had been expecting her mother’s party for days.
“Come on,” she whispered to Betriz, “let’s go and see!”
She pushed back her chair, all thoughts of Borasnen’s new provincar set firmly aside for the moment, and ran across the corridor into Bergon’s office, with Betriz right behind her. Bergon’s view of the castle courtyard might not be as picturesque as her view of the sea, but it certainly had its uses.
~*~
The royal offices were too high above the courtyard for Iselle to see faces, but the arrival of the Dowager Royina Ista’s party was unmistakable, even just from the stir it was causing among the grooms and servants. The first through the gate was a solid dark figure that could only be Foix dy Gura, followed by two more soldier-brothers. After them came a woman with light hair and a thick gray traveling cloak, small in stature but sitting with the straight confident posture of someone in charge of things-
Her mother.
That was her mother.
Iselle knew perfectly well that Ista wasn’t mad, not any more. That she had looked after the old Provincara for the last three years of her life, and had eventually taken over the management of the household at Valenda (with dy Ferrej’s help). Iselle and her mother had exchanged letters, and had even spent a little time together around the time of her coronation and again right after Isara was born.
But Iselle hadn’t seen Ista since she had acquired her new status as a saint of the Bastard- a status that Iselle didn’t understand, not really, although Cazaril assured her adamantly that it was real.
This confidence-this sense of rightness in herself-that Ista seemed to have was something that Iselle had never seen in her mother, in all of her life.
The rest of the party had come through the gate by now. There was a fat man all in white, who must be the divine of the Bastard that her mother had written about. Iselle saw a slim girl with a long dark braid, and a short bandy-legged man, and two more soldier-brothers.
And a very tall man who slid off his horse with athletic grace and sped to the dowager royina’s side even faster than the castle groom with the mounting block. Iselle watched as her mother took the man’s hand and slid to the ground-and kept hold of that hand a few moments longer than she really needed to.
That must be-
“Lord Illvin dy Arbanos,” said Cazaril, coming up behind them at the window. “Chalion owes him much.”
Iselle nodded, absently. She had heard about this one’s role in the fight against the Jokonans, and his work as translator and negotiator on behalf of Chalion-Ibra in the months since. But apparently she hadn’t heard everything about dy Arbanos.
~*~
To be continued here
.