Yoshibb- I already thanked you in tumbrl for your awesome V-Day present, but I'll thank you again here <3 You are the best!!!
Happy Valentines Day Everyone!!!! The threatened/promised day is here! It's POV TIME.
You guys managed to pick just about the most spoilerly possible POV's so I tried to balance being authentic to their state of mind with jumping over any explicit spoilers.
And...I just want to apologize in advance to Team Jarrod, who worked super hard, just in case his POV was not what they were hoping for. SORRY!
You can find the master list on tumbrl
http://azalynestudios.tumblr.com/post/1 ... masterlist if you think that will be easier for you to read!
Lord Clarmont stared at his packed bags, a slight frown on his face. There was a strict limit on the amount of luggage you could bring with you to the Isle so he had to make sure he had everything he could possibly need. Well, everything that wouldn’t get him in trouble and would fit in the three luggages allowed. He mentally cataloged everything he had packed, but he couldn’t shake the niggling feeling that he had forgotten something.
“Riding boots!” Finally, he had figured it out. “Nan! Have you seen my riding boots?” he called out.
But instead of the elderly woman who had taken care of him since he was a child, his rescue came with four legs and a ridiculous amount of fuzzy fur.
“Moncha! You brilliant girl.” His dog dropped his now slightly soggy riding boots at his feet and barked happily, her tail wagging. He leaned down to give her some well-deserved petting. “I don’t know how I ever got so lucky. We all know you are the brains in this family.”
She barked happily and nearly knocked him flat with her enthusiastic head butts. But the old dog’s happiness was short lived as she circled the luggage sighed and flopped down near it, giving him a pleading look.
Clarmont sighed bitterly. “I’m sorry, girl, they don’t allow pets to come to the Isle. You will have to stay here.” He tried to harden his heart against her mournful whining, but it was no easy task. Moncha had always been there for him, had always loved him and waited for him and accepted him. No matter what else was going on. And now he was considering leaving her behind…
“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere for you. But I should have guessed. Where else would you be but in your room packing, almost an entire week before you have to leave.”
Clarmont did his best to shake off his melancholy and forced a teasing smile as he turned around to face his steward and best, perhaps only, true friend. “Unlike certain people, cough, you, Lyall, cough, cough, some of us like to be prepared.”
“You are going to eat delicious food, dance with pretty ladies and try not to give in to temptation to murder our
lovely royal offspring. How much preparation could you possibly need?”
Clarmont arched an eyebrow. “Easy for the person who gets to stay here and be lazy to say.”
Nyall grinned at him, a sparkling challenge in his eyes. “Are you saying you would trade places with me if you could?”
Clarmont swallowed a sigh. Nyall was almost never serious, but when he was he looked even less serious than usual. He was serious now. He deserved at least an honest answer. “No.”
Nyall dropped all traces of levity. “Clarmont-“
He interrupted, pasting a carefree smile on his face. “I need you here. There’s no one else I trust to look out for Moncha and Nan and everyone else.”
“Your entire staff is filled with orphans, widows and misfits. They all need you here, Clar.”
“I know you can take care of them. All of them, just as well as I could. Thankfully the estate isn’t entailed, so it’s all worked out.”
“Worked out? Clar! What are you planning?”
“Don’t worry so much. You are looking awfully like a nanny-goat. It’s just seven weeks of eating delicious food and dancing with pretty ladies, what could I possibly be planning?”
“So you are telling me we can all expect you back promptly on the eighth week, fat and happy and possibly bringing a blushing bride along?”
“That’s the plan.”
“I hate it when you smile like that, Clar. That’s the smile that means you are lying. And you never used to use it on me.”
His best friend stormed out of the room, but Clarmont didn’t follow him, as much as he wanted to. He couldn’t. He had made his choices long ago. Or rather, his choices had been made for him.
He could feel the familiar anger start to pump through his veins, throbbing through his head with every beat of his heart.
“What did you say?”
“I…I’m sorry your highness, but the royal majesties, your parents…ordered all of your weapons be confiscated…in case…in case you try to sneak some with you.”
She cowered and winced away from his gaze, just another one of boring, terrified little mice that were always hovering annoyingly in his vision. Everything about her, from her cracking voice to her hunched shoulders just made him angrier.
Before he realized what he was doing he had already grabbed the porcelain pitcher of water next to him and tossed it at her head. But like a mouse, she had the audacity to scurry and so the pitcher smashed against the wall, creating a shower of water and broken pieces. That noise, at least, was satisfying.
“You are so predictable it’s boring, dear brother.” He turned his scowl on to the intruder now giving him a disdainful look from where she lounged against his open door. “If you are going to insist on throwing tantrums like you are twelve, you should at least do so in some new, creative fashion that doesn’t leave us short of dishes every month.” His sister gave the mouse, now making some hideously annoying sound between crying and heaving, a bored look. “Go.” At the word of the Princess, the little mouse scurried away so fast you would think he was a circling hawk. Like he would ever be interested in hunting someone like her.
“We can’t all be as
creative as you, Gisette.” Jarrod scowled at his sister until inspiration struck. “Which means you can talk our parents out of this madness!”
“Why in the world would I want to do that?”
“You can’t tell me you
want to be stuck in some godsforsaken island in the middle of nowhere with dull people doing dull things and not a weapon in sight for seven weeks!”
“We are royalty, brother. It comes with the ability to throw things at your servants’ heads, like you so often prove, but it also comes with costs. This is one of them.”
“I’m not marrying some insipid little girl who is probably hideous just because Father thinks I should.”
His sister arched her eyebrow in the way that she knew annoyed him. “I’m relieved to hear it. I’m not in the market for an insipid ugly little girl for a sister-in-law.”
“If you don’t want me to get married, and gods know you don’t want to get married, why won’t you help me talk our loving parents out of this terrible idea?”
“If you had the ability to listen to something for longer than the three seconds it takes for you to get irritated you would already know this. It’s not about getting married, although I’m sure our parents would be thrilled if we managed to secure ourselves a favorable alliance, it’s about appearances. We can’t afford to let the rest of the world think we are weak.”
“We aren’t weak, so who cares about the rest of the world? It’s not like any of the other pathetic countries could do anything to us even if they wanted to. We have the fiercest army the world has ever seen and the strongest royal family that Revaire has ever had.”
“And even if all those lies father fills your head with were true, which they aren’t, it’s not just the matter of politics or perception; it’s the matter of
them.”
“Like
they will have any ability to get on the Isle.”
“You and father never cease to amaze me with your ability to underestimate them. But if there is any chance they will take this opportunity to contact people from the other kingdoms, we can’t allow it.”
He looked thoughtfully at his sister. “…You really think they might show up there?”
She shrugged, so casual he knew that for once she meant what she was saying, “Them or their agents.”
He could feel a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “If we find them there, can I kill them?”
“If we find them, dear brother, I will help you kill them myself.”
He could feel his mouth spread into a vicious smile. For the first time since he had been ordered to attend the Summit by his father he found some enjoyment at the thought.
Hamin sighed as his legs dangled over the edge of the cliff, the breeze sending his braids dancing. He stared into the distant ocean and for once in his life; neither the sea nor the winds gave him hope for freedom. But as much as he wanted to run away, he knew his father was right.
He loved Hise and its people. He wasn’t willing to sacrifice them just so he could escape his responsibilities. And after what his father told him…It looked like the Summit was the last thing standing between his homeland and a war they might have no way of winning. So if someone was going to be sacrificed it was going to be him. It was so deliciously ironic that of an entire nation of freemen and women, he was the only one who couldn’t do what he wanted. Thanks, Pop.
“Ha! I knew you would be here. Whenever you go missing I know to find the highest place around and look there.”
“What are you doing here, Leala? Shouldn’t you be busy planning a mutiny?”
His childhood friend and second-in-command scoffed at him as she plopped herself down next to him, her short dark legs hanging over the cliff. “Like I would need to. We all know who is really in charge around here.”
“You are right. Her royal majesty Queen Pickle, the best rat catcher on land or sea.”
“Ugh. Don’t remind me. That cat hates everyone but you; she’s going to be so difficult to live with when you are gone.”
“You just say that because every time she sees your hair she attacks.” Hamin gave his friend’s dark braids, that were continuously sprouting more and more brightly colored feathers, a pointed look. “I don’t know why you do that anyway. It’s not like if you add enough you will suddenly be able to fly.”
“Says who?”
“I could push you right off the cliff and then we can see who is right.”
She laughed. “You charmer. I can always count on you to know how to treat a lady.”
He raised an eyebrow. “If you find a lady, be sure to introduce her.” Leala elbowed him painfully in the ribs, quite eloquently proving his point, he thought. “Why are you here, Leala? Did my dad send you?”
“Of course not!” She gasped, horrified. “You know I avoid the company of anyone over thirty. What if their responsibility and gravitas is catching and rubs off on me?”
“I don’t think there is any danger of that. I’ve never met anyone more allergic to maturity.”
She stuck out her tongue at him. “If you are done moping here like a big old baby-“
“Hey! A little respect, please.”
“Fine, Captain Big Old Baby.”
“Thank you, much better.”
“If you are done moping, Captain Big Old Baby, I came to invite you to go watch the delegates drinking contest. There’s this girl who is just moping the decks with the competition, I’ve never seen anything so funny.”
“As tempting as that sounds, no thanks. You go watch.”
“Stop sucking lemons, Captain.” Hamin frowned warningly at her, but as was her usual wont, she completely ignored him and continued anyway. “It’s just seven weeks; it’s not like a life sentence. And knowing you, you will find someone shiny and get distracted and start plotting to kidnap them all and bring them back. And I’ll be the one who has to figure out how to fit ten new useless people onto our ship while escaping their real fiancés.”
“Psh, like I would ever kidnap someone
useless.”
“If this is about Zachariah-“
He felt that familiar stab of ice in his gut. “Stop.”
“You know as well as I do he wouldn’t want this for you. This blame and guilt that keeps you frozen in time-“
“I said
stop, Leala.”
“I’m just saying what I know he would say if he was still here. If you find a chance of happiness on that strange little island, don’t keep yourself from taking it as some sort of punishment. You don’t have to spend the rest of your life forcing yourself to pay penance. The future of Hise is important, but so is your future.”
“On second thought, I think I’m going to go the drinking contest after all. I bet they have lots of strong stuff, so I can go get thoroughly drunk. Maybe then I will be too drunk to hear you anymore.”
“Hamin-“
“Race you there, Leala! Loser swabs the deck. With their underwear.” He started running to the sounds of her loud barrage of curses, carried to the seas on the wind.
He put down the quill with a sigh and stretched. It had been a long night. But he was used to those. Zarad, Third Prince of Corval, for what that was worth, rarely got a full night’s sleep. Which is why he was now eyeing his untouched bed longingly. It was tempting, so tempting, to considering sleeping for the few hours before he had to go and get on a ship. The summit…now that should be an interesting experience. So few things were novel these days; he was almost looking forward to it.
“Big brother Zarad!”
Sina, all three feet of her, had shoved open his heavy door and danced inside his room, giggling at the disapproving looks her handlers were sending her. And there went sleep as an option.
“Hello, my pretty Sina. Not that I’m not delighted to see you, but aren’t you supposed to be at your lessons?”
She waved her hand with all the dismissive authority of the Emperor. “You are not at my lessons. You are here.”
“Yes, in my room. That
is a shocking development.”
She leaned forward and whispered so loudly that only those in the rooms nearest them could hear clearly, “My ladies tell me I shouldn’t visit you here. They won’t tell me why but they said something about loose women. How can women be loose? Does it mean their clothes don’t fit? And why would they come to you for that? Are you a secret tailor?” Then she giggled in delight as her ladies blushed crimson and stuttered in response.
“You, my dear, are an absolute little demon. I have no idea who you could have gotten it from.”
“Papa says I’m just like you when you were my age, brother Zarad!”
“What a ridiculous thing to say. You are much prettier than I was.”
Her face lit up with calculation. “Does that mean that when I am your age, I will be able to make everyone’s brains turn to mush just by smiling at them? Because that seems like a very
useful talent.”
“If you ask me, give you any more
useful talents and the world is doomed.”
“Mama says you are leaving today. You are going on a big ship and going to a little island and you will be gone for many, many sleeps.”
“Your mother is right. I am. I hope you won’t cry at night for missing me.”
She scoffed loudly, her little mouth puffing out adorably. “It’s much more likely
you will cry missing me, brother Zarad.”
“True enough, little demon. So if you aren’t here to cry and beg me to stay, did you come to wish me luck?”
She shook her head no, sending her pretty little curls bouncing all around. He had to stifle a laugh, for she hated it when people treated her like she was ridiculous. Even though she very clearly was. “I came to ask you questions.”
“Well, in that case, go ahead then.”
“Oldest brother Aamir went to the summit, before I was born.”
“That doesn’t sound very much like a question.”
“He came back with big sister Constance.”
“That is also not a question.”
“Are you going to bring me back a sister?”
“Would you like me to?”
“Yes! But only if she’s a nice sister like Constance.”
“But what if she is a naughty sister?”
She squished her lips together and looked thoughtfully for a minute. “That could be fun, too. It would be nice if I wasn’t the
only one getting into trouble.”
There was a soft knock on his door that only one person in the entire palace used. Like he expected, Princess Constance, formerly of Arland, timidly opened the door once he gave her permission to enter. “I’m so sorry, your highness, but I was told Princess Sina went missing-“
“And your first thought of when there’s trouble is to come find me? The oasis of all evil?”
Her pretty features flushed bright red and she stammered “Of course not.”
Sina happily marched up to Constance and pronounced, “Brother Zarad has promised to bring me back another sister, like you, Constance. We can leave now. Even if maths is so boring I am tempted to cut off Lady Reina’s hair. I think she would look much better with short hair, don’t you?”
His brother’s wife sent him one quick, worried look. “…Good luck at the summit, Prince Zarad.”
Sina scowled. “My brother doesn’t need luck. He has skill.”
Zarad had to bite down the bubbling laughter that threatened to rise with all this ridiculousness. “Ah, but I will happily take any luck I can get, especially when it comes from such a pretty package.”
Constance couldn’t have bobbed a curtsy and dragged Sina out of the room any faster if she had run. All the while Sina was yelling loudly for him not to forget that he had promised. Only his sister would demand he bring back a wife like some sort of souvenir to present as tribute.
Well, his list of things to accomplish at the Summit was already long enough, might as well add a wife to the list, if only to please his sister. Free from her easily offended eyes, Zarad gave in and laughed until his stomach hurt.