Esther (glass) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-06-10 23:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, esther glass, mathieu rozenkatz |
Who: Mathieu & Esther
What: Politics & catching up.
Where: Rozenkatz estate
When: After this.
Rating: PG-ish
Status: Complete
A note had been sent to Lord Rozenkatz upon her return to the city, a customary greeting with no hidden meaning or motive, letting him know that the week outside Emillion had passed with some excitement and no damages. Except, maybe, to her pride for her abysmal riding stamina (not that anyone would betray the fact she had been laying in bed all of Saturday and half of Sunday curled up). Sunday afternoon had gone as well as could have been expected, Esther still had mixed feelings towards the new Sage but at the end of the day, step one had been taken. Then there would come another and another — forging her own path within the Guild. Esther pondered these thoughts briefly in the late afternoon, a crisp summer breeze musing her hair. Though the Noble District of Emillion was quickly recuperating from the attack, there were still grim reminders that Esther could not dismiss as she travelled across. Her forehead against the hovercar window, she closed her eyes in order to avoid giving into melancholic thoughts. What was done could not be undone, what had been lost then could not be retrieved. “Lady Glass, we’re here.” She stirred, taking the offered hand as she stepped out, “Thank you, please wait for me here.” A rung bell, two servants later and Esther had been escorted inside, familiar halls and paintings, waiting. Barely concealed eagerness laid beneath her skin, only keeping herself in check by years of careful upbringing to mask emotions. Mathieu had been spending his time that Sunday afternoon in his study, and so it was that the servants had ushered his visitor there. Books and papers and ledgers piled dramatically across the wide expanse of his desk, clear evidence as always that the Bards Guild councillor had taken his work home with him (well, the official sort at least). He had been in the midst of these familiar and daunting tasks as they approached, papers and proposals to be sorted through and organized, requests to be reviewed and notes to be signed. The house servants knocked and Mathieu quickly bade them inside, looking up from his work with his usual cheerful mask for visitors--until he caught his first glimpse of his friend, and then his enthusiasm caught alight. Relief and excitement at seeing Esther immediately ignited, and he stood up from his desk, pen and papers discarded, and moved his way across the room. “Lady Glass,” he said in an exaggerated greeting, giving the servants a quick smile and waving them away in dismissal. Mathieu couldn’t help himself, and gave the mage an obvious once-over, making certain that she appeared in good health and spirits. “How wonderful it is to see you!” "My esteemed Lord Rozenkatz." She reached out for his hands, wanting to clasp them in hers and convey the simple happiness seeing him brought out. "Thank you for accepting my call on a Sunday." Sometimes the formalities between them felt like a game, breaking them wouldn't cause insult, but she kept them because it was the convention she had been brought up with. "It is wonderful to see you too, it was a long week without your company and council. Too much chocobos and outdoors for my taste. How was yours?" “Was it really so long?” Mathieu had taken her smaller hands in his own, clasping them together in a way that was most familiar. It served to create an instant comfort, knowing now with certainty that she was indeed returned and well. After giving a small and playful squeeze, he gestured for her to take a seat at one of the chairs. “With so much council work and so many appointments, time has slipped away from me,” he explained, a cat-like grin slipping onto his features. “But I’d much rather hear of your heroic tales in the outlands, so come and sit and share this tea with me, I won’t drink it all myself!” Striding over to the desk and its bounty of contents, he waved a hand toward the tray that had been brought only a short while earlier. The wide assortment of items which caused Esther to give a quick glance, worried that something would topple over by the overzealous law of gravity. “It really was so long, were you too busy to miss my constant interruptions during your work?” Esther’s demeanor was bright and energetic, this visit blotting any moments of darkness during the last week; not prone to melancholy for the sake of it, there were not many, and she couldn’t help but picking up (purposely) Mathieu’s cup of tea and giving it a sip. “I am not entirely sure, my lord, that this amount of sugar is good for your health, but I will lecture you on that later and instead tell you my news: I have spoken with the new Sage.” At this, Esther bit her lip and looked at her friend’s reaction before continuing, “I am not sure about my feelings towards him, but —” Tongue-tied for a moment, Esther shrugged. “Please, spare me nothing,” Mathieu warmly encouraged her. He had moved to pour Esther her own cup of tea, chuckling to himself at her mock attempt at chastisement (he had never, after all, found reason to hold back on cream or sugar). “I wish to hear all your thoughts on our esteemed Councilor--” and it was here he had to correct himself, more accustomed to the man’s former role “--Sage Matsudaira, why pardon me!” And though Mathieu continued to smile, the business of the current Mages Guild continued to concern him both professionally and privately, a heavy stone which had sunk to the bottom his gut and had remained there. He gestured for Esther to take a seat where she liked, the stacks of papers and ledgers spread about on his desk to provide enough hint to how much he had worked to distract himself in her absence. “My own dealings with him have been very few, I’m sorry to say.” (The elder councilman reminded him a bit of another stoic and seasoned fellow, Councilor Thornton, and Mathieu recalled their most recent conversations with a passing hint of amusement.) His own teacup returned and the one poured out for her taken, Esther arranged herself on the edge of his desk, half-standing half-sitting. “He appears to be a fine man, hardworking, rational but I cannot bring myself to trust the council. It—”a pause as she arranged her thoughts, not worried about saying the wrong thing but not wishing to ramble incessantly around the topic, “—Maybe it is because we see it among the nobility - it would help to have someone outside the council who moves in these circles to help promote the guild. Draw attention to the good things that have been accomplished. People don’t want to hear the council under our late Sage, for all they know they could’ve been accomplices to the whole thing. Even if proof to the contrary is found, not everyone would believe it. I told him a little bit of this, not so directly.” Only fools give away their hands to those unknown, “He said he had no reason to stop my intentions, as long as I make sure not to disclose the positive actions of those who wish to remain anonymous.” When finished, Esther took a sip of her cup making no attempt to conceal the apprehensions behind the steely resolution of her intentions. Mathieu, now plopped down in his desk chair languorously, his feet propped on the desk (a strikingly different image from earlier, when had leaned forward his heavy shoulders, examining carefully each new paper and item in hand), examined Esther’s features as she spoke, reading her concern over the matter and translating it as his own. So it was easily achieved that her troubles became his, even outside the churning wheel of Mages Guild internal politics as he obviously was--a minor detail between them. He raised his arms up over his head, stretching out his limbs and imagining the new Sage, stern and rational as he always appeared, delivering to her this decision. “A curious reaction,” he said, going over the details in a light tone, glancing up toward the ceiling as if, written there somewhere, was all the answers he sought. “But perhaps this restraint means that he has agreed with you, and the leadership wishes only to keep out of the limelight.” Mathieu balanced his teacup on this knee and tossed the idea about. “And what will you begin your glorious campaign with, my dear Lady Glass? Will this latest adventure of yours be any help, any value?” “I am not sure, is getting ambushed by an elemental and suffering muscle pains from riding of any value in anything?” Esther cocked her head, a playful smile gracing her expression as they danced between politics and confidences. A few years ago she had thought that things would never change, that they could laugh and run around with no responsibilities or worries. Her engagement and his promotion as councillor had changed that, but never them. “Speaking with Councillor Min, see if she concedes to having her good deeds pointed out to others. Shall she decline I do think starting small, gaining the ears of some of the Judge Magisters, other influences which might trickle down some positive feelings towards the guild or at least an inclination not to look the other way if mages are wronged.” Her teacup placed down neatly on the tray, she swivelled her body to look at him with his relaxed posture and easy confidence. Esther followed the lines, his expression and tone until they were her own to adopt. “Ah,” he exclaimed at mentioned of the those particular arbiters of law. Mathieu’s thoughts flittered instantly to Lord Finch, His Honor, most gracious friend with whom he had shared his own adventures abroad (and none of which he could speak of to Esther--a burden of responsibility of his own peculiar position). He took a sip of his tea and smiled. “Now that’s a wonderful idea indeed, should Councillor Min decline you,” he said in an encouraging tone. “Have you thought to broach the subject with your betrothed? Lord Wulfram would love to help you as he can, I should think!” “My dear Wulfram,” The term of endearment neither sardonic nor affectionate, “Has had much on his mind since the appearance of Sage Xi with that — thing. He worries for my safety in the guild, for my health after—” she loathed to spoke of her injuries “—the battle, and of course he has his own affairs to manage still. His estates up north,” Esther waved a hand dismissively, “I do not think it is time to bring it up with him, though his support would be given without hesitation.” And just like Mathieu had his personal secrets, so did she (though far less few) breaths of air that drew them closer rather than apart, because there always needs to be small spaces in-between to keep for oneself. “Shall Councillor Min decline, and my words with the Judges ignored, I’ll find another way.” “And with my help of course, if ever you need it,” Mathieu proclaimed in earnest, certain of Esther’s ability to find a way for herself surely as much as his own. He shook himself slowly out of his reclined state, leaning forward at the desk and moving to pour more tea (and to partake of the biscuits the servants had brought around as well). “But for now,” he continued, glancing across to Esther with a familiar gleam in his eyes, “before you have me forget all about it--why don’t we discuss the grand battle with this elemental of yours, if you will? Where did we say this was again?” Esther met his look and laughed softly, she leaned across the desk taking the opportunity that he was now closer to her and bumped their foreheads together lightly - as if they were a pair of children and not adults discussing important issues. “As long as we never speak of anything chocobo related” She was all mock seriousness then, pulling back to reach for her cup of tea, “It was an unfortunate ambush, but we had a very capable sentinel and fell knight in our party.” The events of the battle and its aftermath were conveyed with appropriate pauses for sweets and tea, Esther’s voice cheerful, until it was way past dinner time. At which point, time no longer mattered to the two who had a week’s worth of things to share. |