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Who would ever want to be king?
Dec. 18th, 2010 03:43 pmOriginal fiction.
~1000 words.
The opera house was on fire. Everything around the opera house was on fire as well. It had taken a few days, but the flames were now sweeping across the Upper City, buffeted by the winds. James pulled the missive from his pocket and wiped at the sealing wax that had rubbed off onto his jacket. The heat from the flames was melting it. The heat from the flames was melting him. He shucked off his jacket and draped it over his elbow. The sweat rolled across his skin in torrents. He didn't see much of a point in trying to look put together when the whole of the world was coming down around him. He felt like a proper fool. Derek had given him this one last task and he couldn’t complete it.
He should never have found himself in this situation. He should have stayed his dreams and kept to his modest place, rather than try to force himself into becoming something. Being someone. Everything he'd done since ending up in this city had worked against him.
It was just as well that there was no one there to receive the letter. Unlikely as it was that Amelia had stayed in the city once the bourgeois uprising began, she wouldn't have been able to help them anyway. Regardless of her feelings for Derek, it wasn't going to be safe for her or them to have and eighteen year old girl familiar only with her upper class coterie tagging along after them. She was safer with Nate and the Architects. He hoped.
But he still couldn't return with the letter. He didn't want to leave it to burn in the street. What if someone came back to sift through the rubble? It was possible it could still reach her. James wiped at his drenched brow with the back of his hand and did the one thing Derek had specifically told him not to do. He opened the envelope.
James re-folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. Derek thought that he was indiscreet and didn't trust him. It stung to see it written out, but it wasn't something that he hadn't known. He'd have time enough to prove himself otherwise if he didn't die of asphyxiation here in the square. He covered his nose and mouth with the tail of his coat and took a deep breath, choking on the smoke.
The marble pillars that marked the entrance to the opera house carriage way were still standing strong against the rebellion. James pulled a large rock from the garden and carried it up the drive. He placed the letter on the ground and pushed the rock on top of it. He hoped it would keep it from flying away and protect it from flames or weather. Then he found a charred piece of wood and went to work on the base of the pillar with it. He scratched out the words TEDDY GIRL in soot right over the place where the letter was. There were a number of teddy girls and mashers working within the city, but so as long as Amelia hadn't told Nate about Derek's nickname for her, it was unlikely anyone would disturb the letter before she had a chance to find it. He hoped, anyway.
There was a crash to his left and a series of cries. One of the mobs of brawlers making their way to the lower city, no doubt. Searching still, after two days of fire and executions, for upper class people to kill. James dropped his jacket into the dirt and shucked off his waistcoat. He hurriedly used the soot on the wood to paint his face and undershirt with ashen streaks to make it look like he had been in the streets looting.
“Bruder!” a voice cried. “Are you willing to come with us?”
“Where are you going?” James shouted back. He'd heard the same exchange many times over his last several days in hiding. It was how they told the patriots from the hiding upper class. It was the call and response of the new world. The new world he'd helped to destroy.
“We're going to build the future!” the mob cried in unison. There were cheers and screams after as someone shot twice into the air. The sound of the bullets was almost drowned out by the sound of the flames around them. He hadn't known fire could be so deafening.
“Count on me!” James stood up and moved toward them. He could follow the rabble down into the Lower City and then sneak away to find Derek while they were distracted. At least for the time being he and they had the same goal. They were all going to change the world.
This entry was written for Topic 7: Brouhaha at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
therealljidol. For those with no context, it's part of a larger steampunk type of work I'm writing with ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theemdash. All comments and questions are welcome.
~1000 words.
The opera house was on fire. Everything around the opera house was on fire as well. It had taken a few days, but the flames were now sweeping across the Upper City, buffeted by the winds. James pulled the missive from his pocket and wiped at the sealing wax that had rubbed off onto his jacket. The heat from the flames was melting it. The heat from the flames was melting him. He shucked off his jacket and draped it over his elbow. The sweat rolled across his skin in torrents. He didn't see much of a point in trying to look put together when the whole of the world was coming down around him. He felt like a proper fool. Derek had given him this one last task and he couldn’t complete it.
He should never have found himself in this situation. He should have stayed his dreams and kept to his modest place, rather than try to force himself into becoming something. Being someone. Everything he'd done since ending up in this city had worked against him.
It was just as well that there was no one there to receive the letter. Unlikely as it was that Amelia had stayed in the city once the bourgeois uprising began, she wouldn't have been able to help them anyway. Regardless of her feelings for Derek, it wasn't going to be safe for her or them to have and eighteen year old girl familiar only with her upper class coterie tagging along after them. She was safer with Nate and the Architects. He hoped.
But he still couldn't return with the letter. He didn't want to leave it to burn in the street. What if someone came back to sift through the rubble? It was possible it could still reach her. James wiped at his drenched brow with the back of his hand and did the one thing Derek had specifically told him not to do. He opened the envelope.
Teddy.
I don't know what they've told you about me, but I wanted you to know that I am neither a traitor nor a coward. I joined with the Architects to try and change something for the better. For everyone, not just for Mr. H and those like him. Now I see that we were lied to. That was never going to happen. I still want those things as idealic as it is. I know that you are laughing at me right now. That's good. Keep your laughter and don't let anyone take it from you. I know that you can have a comfortable life with N. I want to let you know that the minute I get a chance, I will formally absolve your betrothal to me. You shall be free to accept his hand, if he is to offer.
Please do as you wish, I will do as I have to. If you need to reach me find James. He's likely to be the easiest to tail.
You never treated my feelings with the gravity that they deserved, but I have always loved you. I will continue to. Be safe. Be happy.
Nance.
James re-folded the letter and slipped it back into the envelope. Derek thought that he was indiscreet and didn't trust him. It stung to see it written out, but it wasn't something that he hadn't known. He'd have time enough to prove himself otherwise if he didn't die of asphyxiation here in the square. He covered his nose and mouth with the tail of his coat and took a deep breath, choking on the smoke.
The marble pillars that marked the entrance to the opera house carriage way were still standing strong against the rebellion. James pulled a large rock from the garden and carried it up the drive. He placed the letter on the ground and pushed the rock on top of it. He hoped it would keep it from flying away and protect it from flames or weather. Then he found a charred piece of wood and went to work on the base of the pillar with it. He scratched out the words TEDDY GIRL in soot right over the place where the letter was. There were a number of teddy girls and mashers working within the city, but so as long as Amelia hadn't told Nate about Derek's nickname for her, it was unlikely anyone would disturb the letter before she had a chance to find it. He hoped, anyway.
There was a crash to his left and a series of cries. One of the mobs of brawlers making their way to the lower city, no doubt. Searching still, after two days of fire and executions, for upper class people to kill. James dropped his jacket into the dirt and shucked off his waistcoat. He hurriedly used the soot on the wood to paint his face and undershirt with ashen streaks to make it look like he had been in the streets looting.
“Bruder!” a voice cried. “Are you willing to come with us?”
“Where are you going?” James shouted back. He'd heard the same exchange many times over his last several days in hiding. It was how they told the patriots from the hiding upper class. It was the call and response of the new world. The new world he'd helped to destroy.
“We're going to build the future!” the mob cried in unison. There were cheers and screams after as someone shot twice into the air. The sound of the bullets was almost drowned out by the sound of the flames around them. He hadn't known fire could be so deafening.
“Count on me!” James stood up and moved toward them. He could follow the rabble down into the Lower City and then sneak away to find Derek while they were distracted. At least for the time being he and they had the same goal. They were all going to change the world.
This entry was written for Topic 7: Brouhaha at
therealljidol. For those with no context, it's part of a larger steampunk type of work I'm writing with theemdash. All comments and questions are welcome.
