I've Been a Good Girl
Dec. 21st, 2014 01:06 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
feredarStory: I've Been a Good Girl
Year: 945 FY
Characters: Sela and Nida
Warnings: References to parental/familial death, sexism, toxic politics, oblique references to the treatment of mages in Feredar.
Sela recognizes that her father and her mother let her down--they set the stage for her whole life, her whole reign, keeping her apart as the spoiled youngest child and a daughter at that, to be cherished and protected and adored, but never trained, never trusted, never allowed to fall.
Nida always listened with respect, blue eyes quiet and serious and never open, but she never--she never tried to shield Sela from the darker currents, never lied to her, never kept her locked away.
Sela hates herself for it, but she feels like her brothers let her down, too; they died and left her with all this responsibility, all this horrible mess that she was in no way prepared for--but they didn't exactly choose to be murdered, did they, so how can she hate them for it?
Nida, when she found out about those dark, vicious, poisonous thoughts, never told Sela that they were wrong or that they were right, didn't judge her at all for it, and she earned the Queen's unending gratitude--Nida would never leave her drowning like that.
Sela can't really say that Levar let her down--she's never exactly had a good opinion of her half-brother anyway--but she does wish he had risen above her expectations instead, rather than trying to take advantage of her youth, her sex, her inexperience.
Nida rolled her eyes when she found out how Levar had tried to weasel his way into power, then shook her head and changed the subject--he couldn't be ignored, no, but they shouldn't waste more brainpower than they had to on the subject.
Sela doesn't quite feel her husband let her down, but part of her wonders if that's only because he hasn't had time--true, he's better than all the other serious candidates were, but she wonders if she detects a hint of ambition in his eyes when she tells him she's conceived.
Nida asked for nothing but her friendship, Nida claimed nothing but her friendship; Nida never tried to tell Sela she was just being paranoid but nor did she let her get out of hand; Nida was a patient sounding board, a welcome diversion, a trusted ally; Nida was simply Nida.
Sela finds out about Nida's politics when her child is a year old.
Nida would never do anything to harm her.
Sela can't quite wash away the stain of that betrayal, but something...something makes her wonder.
Nida would never betray her on purpose.
Sela knows that, in all this time, Nida is the one person who has not--will not--let her down.
Nida came to her court under false pretenses--but, then, didn't everyone?
Sela takes a deep breath, and starts to think.
Nida had changed since then, and so had Sola.
Sela comes to Nida's room, tosses the unsigned arrest warrant into the fire, and says, "I want you to tell me why."
Year: 945 FY
Characters: Sela and Nida
Warnings: References to parental/familial death, sexism, toxic politics, oblique references to the treatment of mages in Feredar.
Sela recognizes that her father and her mother let her down--they set the stage for her whole life, her whole reign, keeping her apart as the spoiled youngest child and a daughter at that, to be cherished and protected and adored, but never trained, never trusted, never allowed to fall.
Nida always listened with respect, blue eyes quiet and serious and never open, but she never--she never tried to shield Sela from the darker currents, never lied to her, never kept her locked away.
Sela hates herself for it, but she feels like her brothers let her down, too; they died and left her with all this responsibility, all this horrible mess that she was in no way prepared for--but they didn't exactly choose to be murdered, did they, so how can she hate them for it?
Nida, when she found out about those dark, vicious, poisonous thoughts, never told Sela that they were wrong or that they were right, didn't judge her at all for it, and she earned the Queen's unending gratitude--Nida would never leave her drowning like that.
Sela can't really say that Levar let her down--she's never exactly had a good opinion of her half-brother anyway--but she does wish he had risen above her expectations instead, rather than trying to take advantage of her youth, her sex, her inexperience.
Nida rolled her eyes when she found out how Levar had tried to weasel his way into power, then shook her head and changed the subject--he couldn't be ignored, no, but they shouldn't waste more brainpower than they had to on the subject.
Sela doesn't quite feel her husband let her down, but part of her wonders if that's only because he hasn't had time--true, he's better than all the other serious candidates were, but she wonders if she detects a hint of ambition in his eyes when she tells him she's conceived.
Nida asked for nothing but her friendship, Nida claimed nothing but her friendship; Nida never tried to tell Sela she was just being paranoid but nor did she let her get out of hand; Nida was a patient sounding board, a welcome diversion, a trusted ally; Nida was simply Nida.
Sela finds out about Nida's politics when her child is a year old.
Nida would never do anything to harm her.
Sela can't quite wash away the stain of that betrayal, but something...something makes her wonder.
Nida would never betray her on purpose.
Sela knows that, in all this time, Nida is the one person who has not--will not--let her down.
Nida came to her court under false pretenses--but, then, didn't everyone?
Sela takes a deep breath, and starts to think.
Nida had changed since then, and so had Sola.
Sela comes to Nida's room, tosses the unsigned arrest warrant into the fire, and says, "I want you to tell me why."