Elizabeth Culmer (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
edenfalling) wrote2009-06-09 02:36 am
edenfalling) wrote2009-06-09 02:36 am
[Fic] "By the Sword" -- Chronicles of Narnia
A character study of Jadis and her sister, with some experimental world-building for the royal family of Charn. This is not a pretty world, nor is it a pretty family.
[ETA: The revised and expanded final version is now up here on AO3 and here on ff.net!]
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By the Sword
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When Jadis and Cynara were twelve, they killed their older brother.
They thought they had covered their tracks. Jadis's spell dissipated with Mordan's last breath; the servant who had procured the sword died under Cynara's whip for a fabricated infraction. The sisters attended the state funeral with properly stern expressions, refusing to let their triumph show.
Their father didn't even pretend to investigate.
The day after the funeral, drums still pounded in the temples, horns blaring at each new sacrifice whose blood and bones would pave Mordan's way to the sunless lands. The discordant music echoed through the palace corridors as Jadis and Cynara answered their father's summons, walking the eight prescribed steps into the small audience chamber from which Crown Prince Acernos enforced Queen Nekaris's orders and managed her security. Acernos sat on his stone chair, an unsheathed sword across his lap and a death spell shining from the diamond hung about his neck.
"I fear I have been negligent in your lessons, daughters," he said softly. "To cause the death of a member of the royal family is treason. The penalty for treason is death."
Jadis straightened her back an impossible extra fraction, pulling her magic sharp and ready just under the skin of her hands. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cynara shift her weight into a more stable stance, fingers twitching toward her dagger. To attack their father was suicide, but they would die like queens, not sheep.
But their father made no move to strike. "You should not have worked together," he said, still without heat, as if the implicit threat of their magic and blades meant nothing, as if Mordan hadn't been the heir, the favored child who could do no wrong. Jadis clenched her hands tighter, waiting.
"The days when a shield-brother could be trusted are long dead and buried," Prince Acernos continued. "One of you -- either of you -- might have succeeded undiscovered. But magic and a blade? No. That was far too obvious."
Jadis burned cold with rage and shame. This was Cynara's fault. Cynara had begun their game of shield-sisters, of ancient conqueror queens. Cynara had beguiled Jadis into thinking they were stronger together, had tricked Jadis into suggesting that they kill Mordan together, to seal their alliance in blood.
Jadis shot a hateful, sidelong glare toward Cynara, and seethed at seeing her expression reflected on her sister's face. She was the wronged one! How dare Cynara blame her?
On his granite chair, their father smiled. "You were not completely inept," he said, sheathing his sword and clenching his hand to veil the diamond's glow. "You left no overt evidence. And eventually I will need an heir. Therefore, I will let you live... this time. But when you settle the succession between yourselves, do not make the mistake of trust a second time. You are dismissed."
"As you command, sire," Jadis said, Cynara echoing her half a beat behind. They bowed and withdrew in silence, and remained silent until they had returned to the children's wing of the palace and left their escort outside.
"So," Cynara said, as the heavy doors swung shut behind them. She eyed Jadis with a measuring stare, left hand resting lightly on the dagger at her side. "No alliance."
Jadis shook her head. "No alliance." She studied her sister, cataloging weaknesses for a new reason now -- not as places where she could balance Cynara with her own strengths, but gaps at which to aim her strikes. Cynara had fooled her into believing she didn't have to stand alone; Jadis would destroy her in payment for the loss of that hope. But not yet. Not today. Cynara burned hot where Jadis burned cold; time would lull her into complacency.
"In place of alliance, I propose a truce," Jadis said, "until we come of age. There is no sense wasting our strength on each other before either of us can rule alone."
Cynara tipped her head, acknowledging the point -- the more fool she. "To war, then," Cynara said. She drew her dagger, sliced a wound across her right palm. "I pledge this to you: no hand but mine will bring your death."
Jadis took the dagger from her sister's hand and matched her gesture, blood for blood. "Your death is also mine. This I promise, blood to blood, until the end of the world." She clasped Cynara's hand one last time, steel and magic pressed between them to seal their pledge like the shield-sisters of old.
Then Jadis let the dagger fall and walked away.
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Inspired by the 6/8/09![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15_minute_fic word #113: whip
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Yes. More and more, I want to write these sisters forfemgenficathon. I think, therefore, this will be the last I write about them until I have that story outlined properly, so I don't write pieces of it elsewhere by mistake.
[ETA: The revised and expanded final version is now up here on AO3 and here on ff.net!]
---------------------------------------------
By the Sword
---------------------------------------------
When Jadis and Cynara were twelve, they killed their older brother.
They thought they had covered their tracks. Jadis's spell dissipated with Mordan's last breath; the servant who had procured the sword died under Cynara's whip for a fabricated infraction. The sisters attended the state funeral with properly stern expressions, refusing to let their triumph show.
Their father didn't even pretend to investigate.
The day after the funeral, drums still pounded in the temples, horns blaring at each new sacrifice whose blood and bones would pave Mordan's way to the sunless lands. The discordant music echoed through the palace corridors as Jadis and Cynara answered their father's summons, walking the eight prescribed steps into the small audience chamber from which Crown Prince Acernos enforced Queen Nekaris's orders and managed her security. Acernos sat on his stone chair, an unsheathed sword across his lap and a death spell shining from the diamond hung about his neck.
"I fear I have been negligent in your lessons, daughters," he said softly. "To cause the death of a member of the royal family is treason. The penalty for treason is death."
Jadis straightened her back an impossible extra fraction, pulling her magic sharp and ready just under the skin of her hands. In the corner of her eye, she saw Cynara shift her weight into a more stable stance, fingers twitching toward her dagger. To attack their father was suicide, but they would die like queens, not sheep.
But their father made no move to strike. "You should not have worked together," he said, still without heat, as if the implicit threat of their magic and blades meant nothing, as if Mordan hadn't been the heir, the favored child who could do no wrong. Jadis clenched her hands tighter, waiting.
"The days when a shield-brother could be trusted are long dead and buried," Prince Acernos continued. "One of you -- either of you -- might have succeeded undiscovered. But magic and a blade? No. That was far too obvious."
Jadis burned cold with rage and shame. This was Cynara's fault. Cynara had begun their game of shield-sisters, of ancient conqueror queens. Cynara had beguiled Jadis into thinking they were stronger together, had tricked Jadis into suggesting that they kill Mordan together, to seal their alliance in blood.
Jadis shot a hateful, sidelong glare toward Cynara, and seethed at seeing her expression reflected on her sister's face. She was the wronged one! How dare Cynara blame her?
On his granite chair, their father smiled. "You were not completely inept," he said, sheathing his sword and clenching his hand to veil the diamond's glow. "You left no overt evidence. And eventually I will need an heir. Therefore, I will let you live... this time. But when you settle the succession between yourselves, do not make the mistake of trust a second time. You are dismissed."
"As you command, sire," Jadis said, Cynara echoing her half a beat behind. They bowed and withdrew in silence, and remained silent until they had returned to the children's wing of the palace and left their escort outside.
"So," Cynara said, as the heavy doors swung shut behind them. She eyed Jadis with a measuring stare, left hand resting lightly on the dagger at her side. "No alliance."
Jadis shook her head. "No alliance." She studied her sister, cataloging weaknesses for a new reason now -- not as places where she could balance Cynara with her own strengths, but gaps at which to aim her strikes. Cynara had fooled her into believing she didn't have to stand alone; Jadis would destroy her in payment for the loss of that hope. But not yet. Not today. Cynara burned hot where Jadis burned cold; time would lull her into complacency.
"In place of alliance, I propose a truce," Jadis said, "until we come of age. There is no sense wasting our strength on each other before either of us can rule alone."
Cynara tipped her head, acknowledging the point -- the more fool she. "To war, then," Cynara said. She drew her dagger, sliced a wound across her right palm. "I pledge this to you: no hand but mine will bring your death."
Jadis took the dagger from her sister's hand and matched her gesture, blood for blood. "Your death is also mine. This I promise, blood to blood, until the end of the world." She clasped Cynara's hand one last time, steel and magic pressed between them to seal their pledge like the shield-sisters of old.
Then Jadis let the dagger fall and walked away.
---------------------------------------------
Inspired by the 6/8/09
15_minute_fic word #113: whip---------------------------------------------
Yes. More and more, I want to write these sisters for
femgenficathon. I think, therefore, this will be the last I write about them until I have that story outlined properly, so I don't write pieces of it elsewhere by mistake.
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This fits *so* well with everything we know about Charn. I love this piece of backstory for Jadis - it's easy to see in her what she'd become later, but you've also given her a context, as it were.
Splendid job! (And if you were to write more of this sort for
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...World-building is my not-so-secret obsession. It's almost just a handy accident that the settings I dream up are then useful for telling stories, or often best shown via stories. *grin*
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