Ficlet: A Trifling Matter

By Amber Michelle K.
myaru@etherealvoid.net


~ Extensive excuses notes at the end. I used to think King Han was a woman, so perhaps that will give you an idea of what's wrong here. :P


"I still think you should meet him in the audience chamber." It was a whisper, almost too quiet to be heard, from the lips of the eternal child trotting by Go Ranjou's side. They were walking quickly, and her hair bounced and drifted behind her like thread of gold. "You know there'll be rumors if you start meeting foreign offials like this."

The emperess fingered the laquered handle of her fan and flicked her gaze across the hall - no one was there. She glanced down again to find the same disapproving expression pulling the kirin's eyebrows down. "You're adorable when you're angry, do you know that?" Risetsu sputtered and she laughed, softly so as not to draw attention. There were still servants about. "Stop worrying. I would prefer to review this 'urgent matter' myself before I discuss it at court, that's all. The ministry will flock around us like vultures if we let them."

Risetsu sniffed. "You're exaggerating."

"You think so?" She rapped Risetsu's white-clad shoulder with the fan. "Be nice, now. We don't want Hou to know what an insolent kirin I have to put up with, now do we?"

Her kirin tossed her pale hair and lifted her chin, declining to answer, but a hint of a smile touched the little rosebud mouth as she adjusted her robes and tugged at her crimson belt. The pale, fluttering sleeves were lined with the same dark shade, almost the color of blood - a dramatic summer combination reflected inverse upon the queen herself. Risetsu could get away with white, but Go Ranjou was too pale, and her hair too silvery for anything but dark colors. Her ruffled hems were white, and that was bad enough.

She slowed her pace when they reached the garden to allow Risetsu to follow more easily. "How long should we make him wait?"

Risetsu tugged at her sleeve until she halted. "Another ten minutes at least. He's getting you all to himself, after all."

"Hmm..." She spread her fan absently, peering into the trees. The rooftops of the public wing of the palace peeked over their waving branches, as red as her robes and shimmering in the summer heat. The breeze offered little relief.

Han did not maintain diplomatic relations with Hou; as far as Go Ranjou knew, the two countries had never been in contact at all. Their location on the continent made it unnecessary, and Hou didn't export anything her people needed. Risetsu's protests were a touch too vehement, but she had a point - their guest's request was unusual. What could this person possibly have to say that would concern her country as urgently as he claimed?

"I've heard unpleasant things about Hou lately," she said, casting a glance at her kirin. "Have you gathered any information on the state of their monarchy?"

"Not really. I've only had a day." Risetsu shrugged. "It doesn't concern Han, so no one is talking about it."

She nodded and snapped her fan closed. That should be her response to whatever this messanger had to say: 'It doesn't concern Han. There is nothing else to talk about.' His impertinence demanded a sharp response. She had given up her free time for this appointment, and it was time that would be better spent on a painting.

But this was 'urgent,' and not knowing would drive her insane. Was King Hou attempting to forge alliances? Had someone been silly enough to declare war? Did he need help in putting down a rebellion in one of his provinces? It could be anything! She had no desire to be involved in such things, but information was valuable. If there was unrest in Hou, she did not want her merchants to wander into the middle of it.

"I think it has been long enough. Come, Risetsu." She started down the path to the palace proper with her kirin's light footsteps trailing behind. For the sake of her curiosity she would be serious today, and focus on the task at hand. She had chosen an uninteresting, windowless room for just that purpose, and one could almost pity the messanger for waiting so long in that dim, unembellished chamber. Almost. The rose garden would have made a lovely painting.

The door to the study was slightly ajar when they reached it, under the supervision of one lone soldier, as she had ordered. He held it open for them, and once they entered she heard the door close behind her, felt the slight breath of air before it died. The room smelled strongly of wax and burning herbs, and the mustiness of old scrolls. They lined the wall in deep alcoves, some so high that she would need to stand on a table to reach them. Shadows swallowed the topmost shelves.

"Your Majesty."

Her eyes snapped back down and met with the messanger she had come to see, already on his knees, his forehead to the floor. He, like the furnishings, was a mass of shadow shapes in the dim light, and she thought again of painting. He would be an uninteresting subject, but at the moment anything would do.

Risetsu touched her hand and pointed; there was a chair waiting for her, set back against the wall of scrolls. She swept past the messanger to sit, and took the time to arrange her robe nicely before she took pity on the man and said, "Please rise. It is our pleasure to speak with Hou's representative." As if she'd had any interest in the country before he arrived. "What inspired your king to contact us so suddenly?"

He shifted to face her, eyes down, and produced two scrolls. "He requested that I deliver this message to you personally."

The scrolls were presented with another bow, and she thinned her lips for a moment, wishing she'd had the foresight to bring a servant along. She couldn't retrieve them /herself/ and expect to maintain her dignity as an emperess. She opened her mouth to ask that he bring them to her, but Risetsu moved before she could utter a word, approaching the man to take the scrolls. Go Ranjou sighed and closed her mouth, and swallowed the urge to reprimand her kirin for taking such a risk.

When nothing else seemed forthcoming, she took the scroll Risetsu offered and broke the seal. King Hou's message was short and to the point, lacking the poetic turn of phrase she expected from one of his rank, and devoid of the urgency this messanger had approached her with. She read it three times, glancing from the paper to the messanger, then back again. He didn't look up, and she was at a loss for what to say.

She let the scroll roll in on itself and handed it to Risetsu, taking the other one in exchange. It was bigger, more substantial, and the paper was of cheaper quality, bordered with red. She pulled the tie loose and unrolled it far enough to see the title: 'Red Rose Beneath the Indigo Moon.'

It was part of a series of short stories her handmaidens seemed to like, though they were too risque for her own taste, and the author was well-known in the capitol. 'Sinful' wasn't the word she would use to describe it, but she'd heard strange things about the new king of Hou. Perhaps the rumors were not unfounded after all.

Go Ranjou narrowed her eyes at the messanger. "He wishes to terminate trade with Han over this matter?"

He jumped and immediately pressed his forehead to the floor. "Yes, Your Majesty. That is his intention."

She pressed her lips together and dropped the scroll onto her lap, fiddling with her fan as she contemplated how to respond. What a ridiculous reason to do such a thing! She was perfectly willing to apologize on behalf of her subjects for offending his delicate sensibilities, but to terminate communication altogether? It was unreasonable.

But did she want to have dealings with such a narrow-minded monarch? Perhaps not. "And our merchants? What of them?" The messanger was silent for what seemed like an eternity, and she gripped her fan more tightly. If Hou was mistreating her citizens in any way--

"Executed."

Her mind stumbled to a halt. "I beg your pardon?" She must have heard it wrong.

His words tumbled over themselves, as if he couldn't get them out fast enough. "T-the offender was executed, the others are in prison--" She struck the arm of her chair with her fan and he jumped again, falling silent.

That was not what she wanted to hear. Dozens of responses came to mind, but none seemed appropriate. The urge to throw her fan at the poor man was strong and barely resisted. She glared at the top of his head, hoping to bore a hole through his skull, and kept her teeth clenched tightly together so she would not let something offensive slip. Paper crackled beside her, and she could imagine the distress painting Risetsu's face, and her small hands crushing the offending scroll.

The notion of delcaring war had been silly earlier - now it was almost tempting. She allowed herself to entertain the idea for a moment before she pushed it firmly out of mind. Her country was prospering and her people were happy; she had not built that stability on such rash decisions.

"Very well." She forced her voice into a semblence of calm, lifting her chin. "I will compose a reply to your king and have it sent to you tonight." It would take that long to compose something civil. "You are dismissed."

He stumbled to his feet and bowed his way out, not daring to meet her gaze. She motioned for the guard to close the door again, and waited for the click of the latch before she allowed herself to relax. Risetsu clutched at her sleeve, head down, kneading the cloth with her pale fingers. She said nothing, but Go Ranjou sighed and reached up to smooth her hair. It was the easiest thing in the world to upset a kirin - the mere mention of violence, or the faintest trace of blood, and they would grow pale as new snow.

"We'll bring our citizens home safely," she said, voice softening. Risetsu nodded, hands fisting around folds of Go Ranjou's crimson sleeve. "You'll help me write this letter, won't you?" Another nod.

She let her hand fall, and tried to summon up more comforting words. It seemed her eloquence had deserted her, slipped away with her anger to leave an uneasy feeling in her chest. She opened her arms instead, and allowed Risetsu to scramble into her lap and hide her face against the hated ruffled collar, as light as a child half her size.

Sometimes she thought they had been made for each other. Her precious kirin fit perfectly in her embrace, like a puzzle piece - her better half.

Her thoughts turned to negotiations, calmed by the simple pleasure of combing her fingers through Risetsu's hair. She would have to consult her ministers later. Her kirin would have to be more composed before such a meeting could take place. Someone would have to check on the messanger, make sure he had not fled.

A life had been lost, and though it was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, that merchant had been a child under her care. His companions, now languishing in prison, were also her children, and they had to be taken care of quickly. She was grateful King Hou had approached her about putting an end to trade with Han - it saved her the trouble. He wouldn't last long on the throne, in any case, if this was typical of his policy. That was a small comfort.


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This is more serious than I meant it to be. The original scene was more amusing.

If you were wondering:
- Go Ranjou: Emperess of Han
- Risetsu: also 'Hanrin,' the kirin of Han.
- Han: the country due west on the mainland.
- Hou: an island country in the northwest.

This deviates too much from the original idea. That's not a bad thing in itself, but I had to force myself to write it this way, and I think that's the source of the scene's problems. I'm still a creature of inspiration, and when I deny that inspiration, things don't turn out well.

Unfortunately, the original idea was too unrealistic. I can't stand writing that way. I know next to nothing about Han and its characters, so I had to come up with this stuff on the fly, and I don't think I did a very good job. (In fact, I changed my mind three times - can you tell where? ^^)

Han is known for beautiful crafts - mostly jewelry, but also tools, and perhaps weapons. It must be a very artsy place, and I envision the emperess as an artist. Enki said she and her kirin are 'a little eccentric,' and my mind latched onto the modern fine artist stereotype. You didn't see that here, of course, because I tried to do something else. What a shame. I couldn't think of a way to do it.

That's a sign that I'm out of practice, if ever there was one. Needless to say, I'm very dissatisfied with the result. I don't know how I made myself finish this.


(Finished ~4:00am, May 21, 2004)