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tamingthemuseTitle:House and Home (1/4)
Chapter Title: The Call
Fandom: Firefly
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Conclave
Word Count: 1136
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Mucho thanks to my bestest beta![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
spiralleds listening to the four ideas that didn't work, and betaing the one that did. Of course I fiddled with it after she saw it, so all mistakes are mine.
I think these will be four parts. Here's hoping for helpful prompts!
Summary: Inara gets a call, and there's going to be a change.
"Ow!"
Hiding a sympathetic smile behind the rim of her mug, Inara watched as River scampered to her brother's side and then turned to shoot a look of distain at Jayne.
"Oh, bizui, I barely brushed you." Jayne glared at both Tams, not that this was a new occurrence, but since Early's attack Jayne seemed to have even less patience for the doctor. She'd overheard him huffing to Book about having missed the first decent fight the ship had seen, and surmised that a fight that had centered on the siblings had irked the mercenary's pride.
Inara topped up the thick clay mug with some more of her chamomile tea. Jayne was not the only one reacting to their latest debacle. She had not missed the various almost hidden caches of weapons now stored in the common areas, nor the fact that her relaxation tea canister was emptying far faster than usual. The crew had not settled from the incursion.
Just the crew, though. "Stand down, Jayne." Their fearless leader wandered in, grabbing a mug from the counter. Given that his ship had been breached and boarded, only saved by what many considered to be the weakest links of the crew, the Captain had been annoyingly chipper. "Sure the Doc got shot up some, but we did gain us a vessel, strange though it be. Clean salvage that, and it came to us." He swung the dining room chair around and his arms were leaning on its back. "Not that I condone waltzing onto another's territory, but waste not, want not."
It was on the tip of her tongue to make reference to him and her shuttle, but she refrained. The last thing Inara needed right now was an affable captain. Bantering with him made her forget the lessons Nandi died teaching her.
Having finished her drink, Inara thought briefly about brewing another pot, but then recalled her reports that were due shortly. Just one more fact not discussed during training: the pure volume of the paperwork required by those of the Guild who choose to free-lance. Quietly nodding at those left at lunch, she headed back to her shuttle. She'd just entered it when Kaylee caught up to her.
"Inara, there's a wave for you. It's from Madrassa! Her dress is so pretty. Wash is patching it through to your screen." Kaylee's cheer pulled her out of the profitless line of thought upon which she'd been dwelling and let her wrap herself in the proper demeanor for a discussion with one of the House's representative.
"Companion Serra." The greeting crackled from her monitor. She knew that voice. Secure in her breathing exercises, she flipped on the video portion of the wave.
"Companion Wong, you are looking well." Well if you were ten years older, but they'd always been warned a bitter disposition caused many things to spoil.
The pinched face on the screen glared at her, as if to carve offense from that comment. She'd been sure not to have enough meat on that bone for any grievance to grab hold. Especially since taking offence was Cecilia's specialty.
"You are not an easy woman to track down. The Guild does not like to lose track of its members."
Making sure her hands remained relaxed in her lap, she replied, "I was unaware that I was behind in my reporting and filing. Please pass my apologies for any inconvenience to, Companion White is your superior now, is she not?"
Oh don't tease the animals, Inara. Not without an eye to the end game. Cecilia may be an officious low level administrator who was unable to earn her way as a companion, but even small dogs have teeth. Look at how Mal has…focus girl. This is the Guild.
"That is not the reason for this wave, as I trust the greater leeway granted those outside the Houses are not abused. Mistress Chang is about to resign."
The image of the stately matriarch of the Guild, with her silver hair and blue eyes that could freeze you or warm you with mischief danced across her mind. In her last year at the House, she been fortunate enough to attend what were referred to as conversations with the Guild's Mistress. Mistress Chang had always been part of the House; the two were twined like ivy on a column, one unimaginable without the other. There were many questions, but the answers would not lie with the likes of Cecilia, as much as she would wish the world to believe different.
"Please pass on my regards to the Mistress. I hope that she is well." To have said nothing would have raised even more questions. This avoided a direct inquiry; no need to play right into Cecilia's hands.
"I should not say," and here Cecilia leaned forward as if to reveal a confidence – a level one body language form. It was insulting. The question was, did Cecilia mean it to be or had the years of administration dulled her training to such a degree?
"Her Mistress's health has not been all it should be." The other companion drew herself into proper posture. "But that is neither here nor there. Conclave has been called for two weeks from now. You will be in attendance, will you not?"
Conclave. Not now. Or maybe this was the best time.
"I serve my Guild," Inara demurred. "The meeting will be held at the Madrassa House?"
Here Cecilia waved at the bottom of the screen. "I've included the information you'll need. And you do recall the rules: once the doors close on the Conclave, they will not be opened again until a new Mistress has been chosen. It would be a shame if you were on the wrong side. Your approach is always so...fresh."
Go se, Cecilia had always had the subtlety of a grenade, and she may have been spending too much time with the crew if that was the first metaphor that came to mind. To tip one's hand so early, no wonder Cecilia never rose about administrator.
"I will see you at the Conclave. Blessing on you, Companion Serra, out." After closing the connection, Inara debated with herself if this was the time to pull out her last bottle of plum wine. While she admired the, purity was a good word, of Kaylee's distilling endeavors, sometimes the iron fist needed its velvet glove, which the plum wine provided.
With a centering breath, she reviewed the situation, using the strategy taught by a thousand GO games. The pieces were being moved into position. The 'verse worked its own agenda and it was merely...fortuitous that this time its agenda worked so well with her own. Nothing would interfere with such a summons.
Not even her landlord Captain Reynolds.
Not even herself.
Part two this way
Chapter Title: The Call
Fandom: Firefly
Set: Post Series Pre Movie
Rating G
Prompt: Conclave
Word Count: 1136
Disclaimer: I am the almighty Joss, beware my wrath. Umm I mean I did not create these characters or this universe. Joss said go playth, and here I play!
A/N: Mucho thanks to my bestest beta
spiralleds listening to the four ideas that didn't work, and betaing the one that did. Of course I fiddled with it after she saw it, so all mistakes are mine.I think these will be four parts. Here's hoping for helpful prompts!
Summary: Inara gets a call, and there's going to be a change.
"Ow!"
Hiding a sympathetic smile behind the rim of her mug, Inara watched as River scampered to her brother's side and then turned to shoot a look of distain at Jayne.
"Oh, bizui, I barely brushed you." Jayne glared at both Tams, not that this was a new occurrence, but since Early's attack Jayne seemed to have even less patience for the doctor. She'd overheard him huffing to Book about having missed the first decent fight the ship had seen, and surmised that a fight that had centered on the siblings had irked the mercenary's pride.
Inara topped up the thick clay mug with some more of her chamomile tea. Jayne was not the only one reacting to their latest debacle. She had not missed the various almost hidden caches of weapons now stored in the common areas, nor the fact that her relaxation tea canister was emptying far faster than usual. The crew had not settled from the incursion.
Just the crew, though. "Stand down, Jayne." Their fearless leader wandered in, grabbing a mug from the counter. Given that his ship had been breached and boarded, only saved by what many considered to be the weakest links of the crew, the Captain had been annoyingly chipper. "Sure the Doc got shot up some, but we did gain us a vessel, strange though it be. Clean salvage that, and it came to us." He swung the dining room chair around and his arms were leaning on its back. "Not that I condone waltzing onto another's territory, but waste not, want not."
It was on the tip of her tongue to make reference to him and her shuttle, but she refrained. The last thing Inara needed right now was an affable captain. Bantering with him made her forget the lessons Nandi died teaching her.
Having finished her drink, Inara thought briefly about brewing another pot, but then recalled her reports that were due shortly. Just one more fact not discussed during training: the pure volume of the paperwork required by those of the Guild who choose to free-lance. Quietly nodding at those left at lunch, she headed back to her shuttle. She'd just entered it when Kaylee caught up to her.
"Inara, there's a wave for you. It's from Madrassa! Her dress is so pretty. Wash is patching it through to your screen." Kaylee's cheer pulled her out of the profitless line of thought upon which she'd been dwelling and let her wrap herself in the proper demeanor for a discussion with one of the House's representative.
"Companion Serra." The greeting crackled from her monitor. She knew that voice. Secure in her breathing exercises, she flipped on the video portion of the wave.
"Companion Wong, you are looking well." Well if you were ten years older, but they'd always been warned a bitter disposition caused many things to spoil.
The pinched face on the screen glared at her, as if to carve offense from that comment. She'd been sure not to have enough meat on that bone for any grievance to grab hold. Especially since taking offence was Cecilia's specialty.
"You are not an easy woman to track down. The Guild does not like to lose track of its members."
Making sure her hands remained relaxed in her lap, she replied, "I was unaware that I was behind in my reporting and filing. Please pass my apologies for any inconvenience to, Companion White is your superior now, is she not?"
Oh don't tease the animals, Inara. Not without an eye to the end game. Cecilia may be an officious low level administrator who was unable to earn her way as a companion, but even small dogs have teeth. Look at how Mal has…focus girl. This is the Guild.
"That is not the reason for this wave, as I trust the greater leeway granted those outside the Houses are not abused. Mistress Chang is about to resign."
The image of the stately matriarch of the Guild, with her silver hair and blue eyes that could freeze you or warm you with mischief danced across her mind. In her last year at the House, she been fortunate enough to attend what were referred to as conversations with the Guild's Mistress. Mistress Chang had always been part of the House; the two were twined like ivy on a column, one unimaginable without the other. There were many questions, but the answers would not lie with the likes of Cecilia, as much as she would wish the world to believe different.
"Please pass on my regards to the Mistress. I hope that she is well." To have said nothing would have raised even more questions. This avoided a direct inquiry; no need to play right into Cecilia's hands.
"I should not say," and here Cecilia leaned forward as if to reveal a confidence – a level one body language form. It was insulting. The question was, did Cecilia mean it to be or had the years of administration dulled her training to such a degree?
"Her Mistress's health has not been all it should be." The other companion drew herself into proper posture. "But that is neither here nor there. Conclave has been called for two weeks from now. You will be in attendance, will you not?"
Conclave. Not now. Or maybe this was the best time.
"I serve my Guild," Inara demurred. "The meeting will be held at the Madrassa House?"
Here Cecilia waved at the bottom of the screen. "I've included the information you'll need. And you do recall the rules: once the doors close on the Conclave, they will not be opened again until a new Mistress has been chosen. It would be a shame if you were on the wrong side. Your approach is always so...fresh."
Go se, Cecilia had always had the subtlety of a grenade, and she may have been spending too much time with the crew if that was the first metaphor that came to mind. To tip one's hand so early, no wonder Cecilia never rose about administrator.
"I will see you at the Conclave. Blessing on you, Companion Serra, out." After closing the connection, Inara debated with herself if this was the time to pull out her last bottle of plum wine. While she admired the, purity was a good word, of Kaylee's distilling endeavors, sometimes the iron fist needed its velvet glove, which the plum wine provided.
With a centering breath, she reviewed the situation, using the strategy taught by a thousand GO games. The pieces were being moved into position. The 'verse worked its own agenda and it was merely...fortuitous that this time its agenda worked so well with her own. Nothing would interfere with such a summons.
Not even her landlord Captain Reynolds.
Not even herself.
Part two this way
