Tavi of Calderon (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
student_of_impossibility) wrote2013-11-24 08:14 pm
student_of_impossibility) wrote2013-11-24 08:14 pm
Entry tags:
[OOM: Elinarch] Old friends returned
“…alae out for one more run, without the ‘Crows. We’ll do more maneuver drills in the morning,” Tavi ordered.
Max saluted, as did Enna, though she seemed to find it amusing. The Marat as a whole were adjusting more or less well to the new situation, as were the Alerans. There had been some misunderstandings, of course—especially about the women, although that one was cleared up very quickly and pointedly. Very, very pointedly. At least there hadn’t been too much blood, and nothing permanent.
Kitai told him she’d asked her kinsmen very nicely, as a favor to her chala, not to blame the Alerans too much for their madness. Correction, of course, was encouraged.
Tavi still wasn’t sure how to take that.
Dismounting, he handed his reins off to one of the stable hands. Tavi wished for a moment he could be out with the alae. Riding Acteon was a joy, and made him wonder how Alerans could think that they knew what riding was. However, duty and a meeting with Cymnea about Legion supplies called. As he made his way toward the command building, Schultz and several of the Battlecrows on hand and Max a step behind him, he saw Magnus hurrying toward him. “Magnus?”
The old man’s face looked oddly perturbed. “Captain.” He saluted smartly. “Countess Amara just arrived, with—” And then he stopped, frown creasing his brows.
That immediately got Tavi’s full attention. Magnus was rarely at a loss for words. Tavi arched an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.
If anything, Magnus’ frown deepened for a moment. “The First Lord arranged some extra protection for you,” he continued after a moment. “He’s arrived with the Countess.”
Tavi’s eyebrow arched slightly higher for a moment, though he couldn’t quite decide whether to feel surprised or not. He’d guessed, when Gaius ordered him to accept the fact that he was getting more protection than Tavi thought strictly necessary, that it would be Fade. A part of him hoped for it, especially after hearing Aunt Isana had saved Fade’s life at Ceres—though the details were sketchy. Someone was leaving out crucial information. Either way, a slave would hardly be Magnus’ idea of a singulare. Something about that felt wrong, though. Something else is bothering him.
After a moment, he gestured slightly for Magnus to lead the way and followed him. He felt a peculiar stillness, for whatever reason; why, he couldn’t say. He’d had the feeling, on and off, since the conversation with Gaius a few days ago.
When they got to the flight area, Amara looked over and smiled at him. For a moment, he let himself smile faintly back—enough time for grins and hugs and family news later. He saw her tap the shoulder of the man with her, and he turned.
Later, Tavi would never really know who was more surprised. On the one hand, he had known to expect that familiar brand. He hadn’t been prepared for the sight of his old friend standing straight and tall, hair in a regulation Legion cut, sword openly at his side. Only years of careful practice and control kept his shock and rush of nearly savage joy off his face as he quirked an eyebrow at Araris.
And it was Araris. Not Fade, certainly. Aunt Isana must have done more than anyone had told Tavi.
As for Araris, apparently something he saw made his eyes widen, and he paled slightly underneath the tan and the scars. Of course, Tavi could only tell from years of knowing the man, just as he noticed the momentary tensing of muscles. Despite the renewed confidence, for a moment Tavi was acutely reminded of Fade’s panic at having to fight in front of Miles.
“Captain Scipio,” Amara saluted, Legion style, and Tavi let himself smile.
“Good to see you again, Countess. Not flying yourself this time?”
She flashed him a quick smile. “For the trip to my next job, yes. But I was instructed to bring you a little help.” Her expression was almost remonstrating, and Tavi internally wondered when everyone would just let it go. The Canim tried to kill him because he was doing his job right, that was all. “He’s to serve as singulare to you in addition to whatever protection you get from among the legionares.”
She turned aside slightly, and Tavi faced his oldest friend. Araris had composed himself by now. “Araris, Captain.” From his salute, it came as naturally to Araris as it did any of the legionares. Behind him, Tavi heard the murmurs and sharp inhalations, and even as new as his watercrafting was he felt Max’s spike of surprise. As for Magnus, his disturbed expression only deepened. “Rest assured, your safety is my first priority.”
If Max’s surprise had been so palpably sharp, Araris’ mellow assurance carried even, steely resolve. (And the apparently universal-to-the-family exasperation with him.) Tavi’s lips quirked up in a nearly invisible smile. “I expect we’ll both have a great deal to learn how to accommodate the jobs we have to do,” he said mildly.
No carts, Araris.
For a moment, Araris’ lips thinned a little before he nodded. “Of course, Captain.”
Tavi allowed himself to smile properly. “Pleasure to have you, Araris,” he said sincerely as he offered a hand, and decided not to stop the smile from growing slightly when Araris shook it. “Countess, do you have time to stay for a meal and rest, or is it off again to do our lord’s bidding?”
She grinned at him. “If you’re offering food, Captain, I am not going to be foolish enough to turn it down.”
“Good,” Tavi replied warmly. Finally, an update from home. “Magnus, can you tell them we’ll have a guest for dinner? And Araris will need to get kitted out with armor, the usual.” Magnus nodded and, with a salute, went about his business—though Tavi caught one last frown at Araris as he did. It would be a problem, eventually, people wondering if this was Valerian who ought to have died.
With an internal shake, Tavi returned his attention to the moment. “Max, when you see Kitai, can you tell her we have company, then get the Countess here someplace she can refresh herself? Forgive me, Countess, I’m overdue to meet with my Tribune Logistica.”
“Yes, sir,” Max replied, though he was also eying Araris dubiously. Magnus had no way of knowing how long Fade had been with Tavi’s family. Max knew. Tavi wondered what his friend thought of it.
Leaving Amara in Max’s capable hands (metaphorically, because he did not need his uncle trying to murder his best friend, thank you) Tavi continued on his way to the command building. Araris took Max’s place in Tavi’s shadow, though the ‘Crows eyed him warily. Assigned singulare or not, they weren’t letting their guard down. The ‘Crows were his, even more than the Legion as a whole.
Tavi felt a flash of fierce pride in them for that.
Just before they entered his office, though, Tavi paused to glance back at Araris. “It’s good to see you,” he said with quiet warmth. “You’re looking well.”
They both knew what he meant.
Araris smiled back. “You as well—on both counts.” His eyes were pensive. Tavi decided not to pry.
“There’ll be time for catching up at dinner.” He smiled wryly. “Right now supply logs await me. Figures that arguably the most vital job is the most boring.” He heard Araris snort softly with laughter, and Tavi grinned to himself as he pushed open the door to his office.
Time to get to work.
Max saluted, as did Enna, though she seemed to find it amusing. The Marat as a whole were adjusting more or less well to the new situation, as were the Alerans. There had been some misunderstandings, of course—especially about the women, although that one was cleared up very quickly and pointedly. Very, very pointedly. At least there hadn’t been too much blood, and nothing permanent.
Kitai told him she’d asked her kinsmen very nicely, as a favor to her chala, not to blame the Alerans too much for their madness. Correction, of course, was encouraged.
Tavi still wasn’t sure how to take that.
Dismounting, he handed his reins off to one of the stable hands. Tavi wished for a moment he could be out with the alae. Riding Acteon was a joy, and made him wonder how Alerans could think that they knew what riding was. However, duty and a meeting with Cymnea about Legion supplies called. As he made his way toward the command building, Schultz and several of the Battlecrows on hand and Max a step behind him, he saw Magnus hurrying toward him. “Magnus?”
The old man’s face looked oddly perturbed. “Captain.” He saluted smartly. “Countess Amara just arrived, with—” And then he stopped, frown creasing his brows.
That immediately got Tavi’s full attention. Magnus was rarely at a loss for words. Tavi arched an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.
If anything, Magnus’ frown deepened for a moment. “The First Lord arranged some extra protection for you,” he continued after a moment. “He’s arrived with the Countess.”
Tavi’s eyebrow arched slightly higher for a moment, though he couldn’t quite decide whether to feel surprised or not. He’d guessed, when Gaius ordered him to accept the fact that he was getting more protection than Tavi thought strictly necessary, that it would be Fade. A part of him hoped for it, especially after hearing Aunt Isana had saved Fade’s life at Ceres—though the details were sketchy. Someone was leaving out crucial information. Either way, a slave would hardly be Magnus’ idea of a singulare. Something about that felt wrong, though. Something else is bothering him.
After a moment, he gestured slightly for Magnus to lead the way and followed him. He felt a peculiar stillness, for whatever reason; why, he couldn’t say. He’d had the feeling, on and off, since the conversation with Gaius a few days ago.
When they got to the flight area, Amara looked over and smiled at him. For a moment, he let himself smile faintly back—enough time for grins and hugs and family news later. He saw her tap the shoulder of the man with her, and he turned.
Later, Tavi would never really know who was more surprised. On the one hand, he had known to expect that familiar brand. He hadn’t been prepared for the sight of his old friend standing straight and tall, hair in a regulation Legion cut, sword openly at his side. Only years of careful practice and control kept his shock and rush of nearly savage joy off his face as he quirked an eyebrow at Araris.
And it was Araris. Not Fade, certainly. Aunt Isana must have done more than anyone had told Tavi.
As for Araris, apparently something he saw made his eyes widen, and he paled slightly underneath the tan and the scars. Of course, Tavi could only tell from years of knowing the man, just as he noticed the momentary tensing of muscles. Despite the renewed confidence, for a moment Tavi was acutely reminded of Fade’s panic at having to fight in front of Miles.
“Captain Scipio,” Amara saluted, Legion style, and Tavi let himself smile.
“Good to see you again, Countess. Not flying yourself this time?”
She flashed him a quick smile. “For the trip to my next job, yes. But I was instructed to bring you a little help.” Her expression was almost remonstrating, and Tavi internally wondered when everyone would just let it go. The Canim tried to kill him because he was doing his job right, that was all. “He’s to serve as singulare to you in addition to whatever protection you get from among the legionares.”
She turned aside slightly, and Tavi faced his oldest friend. Araris had composed himself by now. “Araris, Captain.” From his salute, it came as naturally to Araris as it did any of the legionares. Behind him, Tavi heard the murmurs and sharp inhalations, and even as new as his watercrafting was he felt Max’s spike of surprise. As for Magnus, his disturbed expression only deepened. “Rest assured, your safety is my first priority.”
If Max’s surprise had been so palpably sharp, Araris’ mellow assurance carried even, steely resolve. (And the apparently universal-to-the-family exasperation with him.) Tavi’s lips quirked up in a nearly invisible smile. “I expect we’ll both have a great deal to learn how to accommodate the jobs we have to do,” he said mildly.
No carts, Araris.
For a moment, Araris’ lips thinned a little before he nodded. “Of course, Captain.”
Tavi allowed himself to smile properly. “Pleasure to have you, Araris,” he said sincerely as he offered a hand, and decided not to stop the smile from growing slightly when Araris shook it. “Countess, do you have time to stay for a meal and rest, or is it off again to do our lord’s bidding?”
She grinned at him. “If you’re offering food, Captain, I am not going to be foolish enough to turn it down.”
“Good,” Tavi replied warmly. Finally, an update from home. “Magnus, can you tell them we’ll have a guest for dinner? And Araris will need to get kitted out with armor, the usual.” Magnus nodded and, with a salute, went about his business—though Tavi caught one last frown at Araris as he did. It would be a problem, eventually, people wondering if this was Valerian who ought to have died.
With an internal shake, Tavi returned his attention to the moment. “Max, when you see Kitai, can you tell her we have company, then get the Countess here someplace she can refresh herself? Forgive me, Countess, I’m overdue to meet with my Tribune Logistica.”
“Yes, sir,” Max replied, though he was also eying Araris dubiously. Magnus had no way of knowing how long Fade had been with Tavi’s family. Max knew. Tavi wondered what his friend thought of it.
Leaving Amara in Max’s capable hands (metaphorically, because he did not need his uncle trying to murder his best friend, thank you) Tavi continued on his way to the command building. Araris took Max’s place in Tavi’s shadow, though the ‘Crows eyed him warily. Assigned singulare or not, they weren’t letting their guard down. The ‘Crows were his, even more than the Legion as a whole.
Tavi felt a flash of fierce pride in them for that.
Just before they entered his office, though, Tavi paused to glance back at Araris. “It’s good to see you,” he said with quiet warmth. “You’re looking well.”
They both knew what he meant.
Araris smiled back. “You as well—on both counts.” His eyes were pensive. Tavi decided not to pry.
“There’ll be time for catching up at dinner.” He smiled wryly. “Right now supply logs await me. Figures that arguably the most vital job is the most boring.” He heard Araris snort softly with laughter, and Tavi grinned to himself as he pushed open the door to his office.
Time to get to work.