15min fic #22
Aug. 28th, 2004 07:09 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
annarti.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
yrae
Title~ Her Lips are Sealed
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine, who'da thunk it?
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 22. Can you tell I had no~ idea where this one was going? I think you can~
~ ~ ~
Two weeks had passed since the Own had ridden over the border into southern Kazin. Nimay had been told the kingdom was habitually dank and dreary, and that one could rarely see the sky for clouds, or indeed ten paces in front because of the fog, but so far the waterlogged kingdom hadn’t yet lived up to that particular reputation.
A hundred varieties of green replaced the uniform red of the Raykinian desert, and even half the sky was plastered with the grey-green of pine trees.
Finally, prince Nolryn spoke up, saying what every Raykinian thought on his first journey into the northern kingdom. “How many Aeia-damned Houses are there?”
The General tilted his head for a moment, counting off the Houses on his fingers. “House of Welcoming Gifts, House of Bribery, House of Small Donations, House of Treasury Donations… That’s four, so we’ve just got the House of Slightly Larger Donations and the House of Really Big Donations, then we reach Silrona. Where of course we’ll need to donate to Silrona’s treasury.”
“Of course,” the prince replied sourly.
Melraan, one of the swordsmen travelling with the Own, moved his horse up beside Nimay, leaning forward in his saddle to look at the prince. “Nol,” he began, “If you take over Kazin, you’ll be able to abolish each and every one of these Houses.”
Nolryn leant forward in his own saddle, resting forearms on Mongrel’s neck. One eyebrow was raised. “What is this ‘if’ you speak of?”
Nimay snickered.
“Don’t encourage him, Nimay,” the General warned without turning his head.
“Her lips are sealed, General,” Melraan assured him.
Nimay raised an eyebrow and displayed the back of her hand to her fellow swordsman.
Melraan merely shrugged. “Well, they are.”
~ ~ ~
Also~ 'member this one? Welp, here's the answer.
Musty scent permeates white-dusted air.
White dust = flour. Just cos.
Spring sun touches eastern lands.
If midday was Summer and midnight was Winter, then dawn would be Spring. Sun rises in the east, so this person works primarily at dawn. Probably in the eastern part of the city.
Pale earth rises.
Pale earth = bread. Again, just cos. Couldn't think of anything better to symbolise bread >>
Food forged from Aeia’s hands.
Aeia's hands = desert sun. Stick the dough out in the sun and it rises.
So, this person is a baker working in Raykin's eastern suburbs. Hurrah!
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Still mine, who'da thunk it?
Notes~ 15 minute fic, word 22. Can you tell I had no~ idea where this one was going? I think you can~
Two weeks had passed since the Own had ridden over the border into southern Kazin. Nimay had been told the kingdom was habitually dank and dreary, and that one could rarely see the sky for clouds, or indeed ten paces in front because of the fog, but so far the waterlogged kingdom hadn’t yet lived up to that particular reputation.
A hundred varieties of green replaced the uniform red of the Raykinian desert, and even half the sky was plastered with the grey-green of pine trees.
Finally, prince Nolryn spoke up, saying what every Raykinian thought on his first journey into the northern kingdom. “How many Aeia-damned Houses are there?”
The General tilted his head for a moment, counting off the Houses on his fingers. “House of Welcoming Gifts, House of Bribery, House of Small Donations, House of Treasury Donations… That’s four, so we’ve just got the House of Slightly Larger Donations and the House of Really Big Donations, then we reach Silrona. Where of course we’ll need to donate to Silrona’s treasury.”
“Of course,” the prince replied sourly.
Melraan, one of the swordsmen travelling with the Own, moved his horse up beside Nimay, leaning forward in his saddle to look at the prince. “Nol,” he began, “If you take over Kazin, you’ll be able to abolish each and every one of these Houses.”
Nolryn leant forward in his own saddle, resting forearms on Mongrel’s neck. One eyebrow was raised. “What is this ‘if’ you speak of?”
Nimay snickered.
“Don’t encourage him, Nimay,” the General warned without turning his head.
“Her lips are sealed, General,” Melraan assured him.
Nimay raised an eyebrow and displayed the back of her hand to her fellow swordsman.
Melraan merely shrugged. “Well, they are.”
Also~ 'member this one? Welp, here's the answer.
Musty scent permeates white-dusted air.
White dust = flour. Just cos.
Spring sun touches eastern lands.
If midday was Summer and midnight was Winter, then dawn would be Spring. Sun rises in the east, so this person works primarily at dawn. Probably in the eastern part of the city.
Pale earth rises.
Pale earth = bread. Again, just cos. Couldn't think of anything better to symbolise bread >>
Food forged from Aeia’s hands.
Aeia's hands = desert sun. Stick the dough out in the sun and it rises.
So, this person is a baker working in Raykin's eastern suburbs. Hurrah!