Fic: Vashti
Jan. 2nd, 2012 09:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanarillSo, because everbright was helpful in establishing myself here at DW, she earned a prompt. She asked if I knew anything about vaguely Achamenid Persia.
I am Jewish. Among other things, this means I am familiar with Achamenid Persia, in the sense that the story of Purim was set there. You know, the one where Esther slept with a king, and the really good sex propogated early anti-discrimination practices in what was actually a quite cosmopolitan empire. Some time ago, I embarked on a highly AU retelling of said story, where everyone is homosexual (of course!) and the gods kicked the exiles out of the holy land for being prats. The story thus far is published over at Bang*Bang.
However, in the course of fleshing out the characters a little, I wrote a couple of studies. These cannot be published at Bang*Bang: they are much too short, and contain zero sex. I kept them, though, to refresh myself whenever the bunny should bite again. This isn't quite what you asked for, but the setting is more or less right and it's a happy bit of fluff.
Title: Vashti
Rating: G
Warnings: Current m/m and m/f, mentions of past m/m and lots of violence.
"Who?" asked Shahab.
"My mother," said Artaksis. "And my wife."
Shahab blinked. Of course he'd known that his dragon had a mother, and a wife - and for that matter, a son - but he'd never really considered them. After another moment, he said, "All right."
Artaksis looked nonplussed for a moment, and then asked, "Do you not want to meet them? Because I won't force you. I just thought - well, you don't really have a big family, and neither do I. Maybe we could share what we do have?"
"Oh," said Shahab. He hadn't considered it like that. "I - I'd like that." And he smiled.
Queen Mother Rashorist Mandya was not what Shahab expected. If asked what he did expect, he wouldn't have been able to say, but it absolutely wasn't this. She was three times his age, small, frail, and unexpectedly terrifying.
He helped her settle herself and arrange the cushions before going to accept the tray of small foods from a servant. She observed the pastries before reaching out with slim fingers and taking a few for herself. Then she poured a drink which seemed to consist mainly of hot milk. Shahab was twitchy, but waited until she had taken her first sip to try some. The flavor was minty, and it made his mouth tingle.
"So," she said, in a voice like iron wrapped in fine linen, "you are Shahab."
"Yes, ma'am," said Shahab.
"Mm." She took another sip. "Well, you are polite, at least. And you seem to make my son happy."
Shahab was perfectly aware that this was a kind of test to see if he was worthy of Artaksis, but he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to convince her. He wore his shepherd's cloak, because he figured that, at the least, he should be himself for her. He'd probably screw up trying to be someone else.
"I hope I do. He's so sad . . . "
"Hm. And you like it here?"
"I - " started Shahab, and then considered his answer more carefully. "I miss Hasufi, but I wouldn't go back. I belong here. Although," he sighed, "I think it would be nice to see the city sometime. How many other people can say they've lived in Sosu for six years and never even seen it?"
"I certainly can't. It's a beautiful city." She was looking at her cup, but probably seeing something that had happened years ago. "When I first came here, I couldn't be consoled. It was the city that brought me out," she smiled faintly, "eventually. But the situation is really not the same. Tell me, when they chose you, what was your reaction?"
"Surprise," replied Shahab honestly.
"Yes?"
Shahab sighed. "Lions killed my father and brother. Hunting them nearly killed me. After all this time, with the treatments and everything, the scars're almost invisible. But then - why would anyone think I was beautiful?"
"Maybe he wasn't looking at that."
Shahb took a little sesame cake so he wouldn't have to say anything.
The Queen Mother ate one of hers. "Do you love him?"
"Yes."
"So do I. I don't want to see him hurt again."
"I will do everything I can to prevent it, ma'am."
"Yes, I heard about your exploit saving him from that coup." The whole city had heard. The whole country had heard. That wasn't what she had been talking about at all. "It's good that he found you. He was never meant to be alone."
Shahab thought about that. Darsis. Vashti. There had always been someone there before. He agreed, "No."
They ate in silence for a while, and then, abruptly, the Queen Mother said, "Artaksis told me that you never knew your own mother. I would be honored if you would accept me."
Shahab looked up, and found her smiling at him. "I - yes. Thank you. Mother."
On the other hand, Queen Parsityes was pretty much exactly what Shahab expected. This didn't help much.
She was tall, regal, and gave the impression of knowing everything about him. She sat herself, arranged her flowing skirts, and looked at him. "Well?"
"Hello," tried Shahab, and nearly winced at her expression. "Queen Parsityes."
"Prince Consort Shahab," she replied. "You may address me by my name."
"Um - " said Shahab, and then caught on to the fact that she was laughing at him behind her face.
Maybe not quite like he expected.
"Parsityes," he ventured. "It's nice to meet you."
"You also. I must admit, I was surprised to learn of you. Happy, of course."
"Why?" asked Shahab.
"Why am I happy that my husband has found you?" She sounded amused, as though the question was anticipated but not expected.
"No, why were you surprised?"
"Ah - the priests assured us of him finding someone, but you seemed so improbable."
"I did?"
"A shepherd all the way from Hasufi? I do not understand what my lord king saw." She murmured words of thanks as a servant placed a tray on the low table. "I would know."
"I can't - I don't know either," said Shahab. "Only it feels right when I'm with him."
The queen let out what might have just been a puff of air or might have been a tiny laugh. "Vashti said the same thing . . . shall I tell you a story?"
Shahab blinked. "Please."
"I was betrothed to my lord king only a few days after my birth. We first met when he was six, and I four, under the watchful eyes of out mothers. I remember, even then, that Queen Rashorist Mandya was elegant." She smiled, faintly. "We played together, childrens' games. I didn't understand what 'betrothed' meant for years. I thought it just meant a special kind of friend. But I was not upset when I found out.
"When I was just thirteen, Artaksis learned that he is not attracted to women." She reached out and took a small almond pastry with her perfectly manicured and hennaed nails. "He came to me first."
She stopped, and closed her eyes. "Can you imagine how it felt? A young woman, not entirely out of childhood, hearing the man you love, coming to you and telling you that he will never be able to love you the way a man loves his wife?" She reopened her eyes. "No, I see that you cannot. He was miserable, and I was absolutely devastated. I said things to him which shame me even now, cruel and hurtful, and told him to get out of my sight.
"He went."
The queen poured the sweet mint drink, in one perfectly practiced motion, and offered a cup to Shahab. He took it.
"I do not know what he said, either to his father or his brother, but in the morning I woke to learn that the plans for our wedding were suspended because he was going to war. I sent him a letter of apology, and asked him to come talk. It was returned unopened.
"And then they went, to conquer Biyyos."
"That was when Darsis died."
She nodded. "Right before the end of that war. You could not possibly have been very old then, but I knew Darsis. He was like a little sun, and that sun went out with him. They finished the capture of Biyyos and came home. We were both lonely and a year was enough time that we were ready to talk again.
"He apologized first. I will always remember that, that even though I was the one in the wrong, he apologized. I told him not to; no one can help the way they are born. And then I apologized, because I had been selfish, but also because I had deeply hurt my best friend. He offered to call off the wedding, so I could marry someone who would be able to love me.
"And I told him to stop being a fool; at the very least, I was the only thing keeping him safe from hordes of hopeful mamas. Besides . . . "
"You love him," said Shahab, quietly.
She smiled. "Yes."
"So we were wed. It took another year and a half to get ready. But when I was fifteen, he seventeen, we clasped our hands and made out oaths, and when he next went to war, I went as well." She smiled again. "There were a number of revolts during the early years, when no one knew how to deal with the new crown prince. He put them down, of course, and people learned to respect him. The prince-concubines were my idea, though."
"But - you - "
"I wanted him to be able to love someone in the same way as I loved him. And, I must admit, he is always so much more when he has someone."
"Oh." Shahab took a sip of the mint drink while he mulled it over. "And he found Vashti."
"Vashti found him. The royal family of Harkem was fully prepared to throw every last man in the country at us. They killed their own soldiers if they broke and ran in battle, did you know that?" Her voice was full of disgust. "Vashti deliberately allowed himself to be captured. The way he put it was that he could not stand to see his country protected by a wall of corpses.
"I liked him right away, of course. So did my lord king, and spent weeks denying the attraction."
"Vashti was a prince-concubine, though?" asked Shahab. "Why not - "
"Because he could." Shahab blinked. "The prince-concubines are, first and foremost, political prisoners. They put up with my lord king because they had to, not because they wanted to. As far as I know, he looked at it as a physical release, not a place for him to have friends and lovers. He did not want to do that, not to Vashti. In the end, I had to help seduce him."
Shahab blinked.
"We were great friends." Parsityes took a sip. "I still miss him."
"I'm sorry," said Shahab, who understood what it meant to lose a loved one.
"You really are," said the Queen, looking at him. "I was, honestly, against this whole plan. My lord king never liked keeping his prince-concubines; I thought that keeping fifteen hundred men here would break him."
"We never - after they spent the night with the king, everyone would go to Shagaz. But we were allowed to speak to each other. No one ever talked about it, though."
"I do not doubt it, but I believe that my lord king did nothing on most nights. He called me also, on occasion, and what he wanted was to be held and reminded that there are still those of us who love him. When he touched anyone, including you, it must have been on the nights when he just needed someone. Who could not have mattered much."
I just need a warm body. You will do.
"No, it didn't," agreed Shahab. "But even so - " he was gentle. He kissed me, and held me, and gave back " - I'm glad it was me."
"I, as well," said the queen. "Take care of my husband."
"I will," promised Shahab.
"So?"
Shahab hummed.
"Shahab?"
He hummed again, settling back.
"Are you - "
"I'm fine," said Shahab. "You know they really, really love you, right?"
"I know."
"All right."
"Did you like them?"
"I felt that they were both looking at me and seeing all the places where I am - and am not - like a dead man."
"Sha- "
"Yes, dragon, I liked them. I wish I had been able to meet Vashti."
"I do too," said Artaksis.
everbright was helpful in establishing myself here at DW, she earned a prompt. She asked if I knew anything about vaguely Achamenid Persia.I am Jewish. Among other things, this means I am familiar with Achamenid Persia, in the sense that the story of Purim was set there. You know, the one where Esther slept with a king, and the really good sex propogated early anti-discrimination practices in what was actually a quite cosmopolitan empire. Some time ago, I embarked on a highly AU retelling of said story, where everyone is homosexual (of course!) and the gods kicked the exiles out of the holy land for being prats. The story thus far is published over at Bang*Bang.
However, in the course of fleshing out the characters a little, I wrote a couple of studies. These cannot be published at Bang*Bang: they are much too short, and contain zero sex. I kept them, though, to refresh myself whenever the bunny should bite again. This isn't quite what you asked for, but the setting is more or less right and it's a happy bit of fluff.
Title: Vashti
Rating: G
Warnings: Current m/m and m/f, mentions of past m/m and lots of violence.
"Who?" asked Shahab.
"My mother," said Artaksis. "And my wife."
Shahab blinked. Of course he'd known that his dragon had a mother, and a wife - and for that matter, a son - but he'd never really considered them. After another moment, he said, "All right."
Artaksis looked nonplussed for a moment, and then asked, "Do you not want to meet them? Because I won't force you. I just thought - well, you don't really have a big family, and neither do I. Maybe we could share what we do have?"
"Oh," said Shahab. He hadn't considered it like that. "I - I'd like that." And he smiled.
Queen Mother Rashorist Mandya was not what Shahab expected. If asked what he did expect, he wouldn't have been able to say, but it absolutely wasn't this. She was three times his age, small, frail, and unexpectedly terrifying.
He helped her settle herself and arrange the cushions before going to accept the tray of small foods from a servant. She observed the pastries before reaching out with slim fingers and taking a few for herself. Then she poured a drink which seemed to consist mainly of hot milk. Shahab was twitchy, but waited until she had taken her first sip to try some. The flavor was minty, and it made his mouth tingle.
"So," she said, in a voice like iron wrapped in fine linen, "you are Shahab."
"Yes, ma'am," said Shahab.
"Mm." She took another sip. "Well, you are polite, at least. And you seem to make my son happy."
Shahab was perfectly aware that this was a kind of test to see if he was worthy of Artaksis, but he wasn't entirely sure how he was supposed to convince her. He wore his shepherd's cloak, because he figured that, at the least, he should be himself for her. He'd probably screw up trying to be someone else.
"I hope I do. He's so sad . . . "
"Hm. And you like it here?"
"I - " started Shahab, and then considered his answer more carefully. "I miss Hasufi, but I wouldn't go back. I belong here. Although," he sighed, "I think it would be nice to see the city sometime. How many other people can say they've lived in Sosu for six years and never even seen it?"
"I certainly can't. It's a beautiful city." She was looking at her cup, but probably seeing something that had happened years ago. "When I first came here, I couldn't be consoled. It was the city that brought me out," she smiled faintly, "eventually. But the situation is really not the same. Tell me, when they chose you, what was your reaction?"
"Surprise," replied Shahab honestly.
"Yes?"
Shahab sighed. "Lions killed my father and brother. Hunting them nearly killed me. After all this time, with the treatments and everything, the scars're almost invisible. But then - why would anyone think I was beautiful?"
"Maybe he wasn't looking at that."
Shahb took a little sesame cake so he wouldn't have to say anything.
The Queen Mother ate one of hers. "Do you love him?"
"Yes."
"So do I. I don't want to see him hurt again."
"I will do everything I can to prevent it, ma'am."
"Yes, I heard about your exploit saving him from that coup." The whole city had heard. The whole country had heard. That wasn't what she had been talking about at all. "It's good that he found you. He was never meant to be alone."
Shahab thought about that. Darsis. Vashti. There had always been someone there before. He agreed, "No."
They ate in silence for a while, and then, abruptly, the Queen Mother said, "Artaksis told me that you never knew your own mother. I would be honored if you would accept me."
Shahab looked up, and found her smiling at him. "I - yes. Thank you. Mother."
On the other hand, Queen Parsityes was pretty much exactly what Shahab expected. This didn't help much.
She was tall, regal, and gave the impression of knowing everything about him. She sat herself, arranged her flowing skirts, and looked at him. "Well?"
"Hello," tried Shahab, and nearly winced at her expression. "Queen Parsityes."
"Prince Consort Shahab," she replied. "You may address me by my name."
"Um - " said Shahab, and then caught on to the fact that she was laughing at him behind her face.
Maybe not quite like he expected.
"Parsityes," he ventured. "It's nice to meet you."
"You also. I must admit, I was surprised to learn of you. Happy, of course."
"Why?" asked Shahab.
"Why am I happy that my husband has found you?" She sounded amused, as though the question was anticipated but not expected.
"No, why were you surprised?"
"Ah - the priests assured us of him finding someone, but you seemed so improbable."
"I did?"
"A shepherd all the way from Hasufi? I do not understand what my lord king saw." She murmured words of thanks as a servant placed a tray on the low table. "I would know."
"I can't - I don't know either," said Shahab. "Only it feels right when I'm with him."
The queen let out what might have just been a puff of air or might have been a tiny laugh. "Vashti said the same thing . . . shall I tell you a story?"
Shahab blinked. "Please."
"I was betrothed to my lord king only a few days after my birth. We first met when he was six, and I four, under the watchful eyes of out mothers. I remember, even then, that Queen Rashorist Mandya was elegant." She smiled, faintly. "We played together, childrens' games. I didn't understand what 'betrothed' meant for years. I thought it just meant a special kind of friend. But I was not upset when I found out.
"When I was just thirteen, Artaksis learned that he is not attracted to women." She reached out and took a small almond pastry with her perfectly manicured and hennaed nails. "He came to me first."
She stopped, and closed her eyes. "Can you imagine how it felt? A young woman, not entirely out of childhood, hearing the man you love, coming to you and telling you that he will never be able to love you the way a man loves his wife?" She reopened her eyes. "No, I see that you cannot. He was miserable, and I was absolutely devastated. I said things to him which shame me even now, cruel and hurtful, and told him to get out of my sight.
"He went."
The queen poured the sweet mint drink, in one perfectly practiced motion, and offered a cup to Shahab. He took it.
"I do not know what he said, either to his father or his brother, but in the morning I woke to learn that the plans for our wedding were suspended because he was going to war. I sent him a letter of apology, and asked him to come talk. It was returned unopened.
"And then they went, to conquer Biyyos."
"That was when Darsis died."
She nodded. "Right before the end of that war. You could not possibly have been very old then, but I knew Darsis. He was like a little sun, and that sun went out with him. They finished the capture of Biyyos and came home. We were both lonely and a year was enough time that we were ready to talk again.
"He apologized first. I will always remember that, that even though I was the one in the wrong, he apologized. I told him not to; no one can help the way they are born. And then I apologized, because I had been selfish, but also because I had deeply hurt my best friend. He offered to call off the wedding, so I could marry someone who would be able to love me.
"And I told him to stop being a fool; at the very least, I was the only thing keeping him safe from hordes of hopeful mamas. Besides . . . "
"You love him," said Shahab, quietly.
She smiled. "Yes."
"So we were wed. It took another year and a half to get ready. But when I was fifteen, he seventeen, we clasped our hands and made out oaths, and when he next went to war, I went as well." She smiled again. "There were a number of revolts during the early years, when no one knew how to deal with the new crown prince. He put them down, of course, and people learned to respect him. The prince-concubines were my idea, though."
"But - you - "
"I wanted him to be able to love someone in the same way as I loved him. And, I must admit, he is always so much more when he has someone."
"Oh." Shahab took a sip of the mint drink while he mulled it over. "And he found Vashti."
"Vashti found him. The royal family of Harkem was fully prepared to throw every last man in the country at us. They killed their own soldiers if they broke and ran in battle, did you know that?" Her voice was full of disgust. "Vashti deliberately allowed himself to be captured. The way he put it was that he could not stand to see his country protected by a wall of corpses.
"I liked him right away, of course. So did my lord king, and spent weeks denying the attraction."
"Vashti was a prince-concubine, though?" asked Shahab. "Why not - "
"Because he could." Shahab blinked. "The prince-concubines are, first and foremost, political prisoners. They put up with my lord king because they had to, not because they wanted to. As far as I know, he looked at it as a physical release, not a place for him to have friends and lovers. He did not want to do that, not to Vashti. In the end, I had to help seduce him."
Shahab blinked.
"We were great friends." Parsityes took a sip. "I still miss him."
"I'm sorry," said Shahab, who understood what it meant to lose a loved one.
"You really are," said the Queen, looking at him. "I was, honestly, against this whole plan. My lord king never liked keeping his prince-concubines; I thought that keeping fifteen hundred men here would break him."
"We never - after they spent the night with the king, everyone would go to Shagaz. But we were allowed to speak to each other. No one ever talked about it, though."
"I do not doubt it, but I believe that my lord king did nothing on most nights. He called me also, on occasion, and what he wanted was to be held and reminded that there are still those of us who love him. When he touched anyone, including you, it must have been on the nights when he just needed someone. Who could not have mattered much."
I just need a warm body. You will do.
"No, it didn't," agreed Shahab. "But even so - " he was gentle. He kissed me, and held me, and gave back " - I'm glad it was me."
"I, as well," said the queen. "Take care of my husband."
"I will," promised Shahab.
"So?"
Shahab hummed.
"Shahab?"
He hummed again, settling back.
"Are you - "
"I'm fine," said Shahab. "You know they really, really love you, right?"
"I know."
"All right."
"Did you like them?"
"I felt that they were both looking at me and seeing all the places where I am - and am not - like a dead man."
"Sha- "
"Yes, dragon, I liked them. I wish I had been able to meet Vashti."
"I do too," said Artaksis.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-04 03:16 am (UTC)I have this love/hate thing going on with Bang*Bang because the headers tell me NOTHING (or they can, since it's just the first paragraph) so I gave up surfing their archives, but I'm regretting that now. Eee! Thank you! I get a little extra awesome new bit to go with two bigger fics! *hugs*
I'm going to go put these on my e-reader!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-04 05:21 am (UTC)Be warned, those are very very NSFW!
no subject
Date: 2012-01-07 05:41 am (UTC)I like the universe, it's interesting. Gods and the consequences of them seem to be real, as well as "the king is the land, and land is the king" which is an interesting concept in itself. Unless I'm reading too much into the metaphors?
You're right in that it's a little vague in setting, but I was really different in feel from reading things set in other historical periods, so you hit the mark when you were trying for atmosphere. I saw the hall Artaksis was all most killed in as one of those giant columned halls, all glazed brick mosaics and paired doors around reliefs. It's too bad the story from the Torah is set in Susa; it's the only capital they haven't been able to dig up some Achamenid palace ruins.
Thanks again for turning me one to this! I'd love to read more if you ever got bit by the bunny again.