She wears the weight of her role in pounds of flesh: her robes, the royal seal; her jewels, the royal bloodline; her titles, the Royal and Firstborn Princess-Regent Sarabella Altney of Sasune, White Wizard. She knows they see her as frail, an ornamental decoration; she does not mind, because she knows the power in underestimation. But it is a heavy load she bears, a weight that has turned her bones to steel and her eyes sharp. Some flowers break in the wind; she has been tempered, beneath the weight of gild and gemstone, and the power of her name.
The only one who sees is Ingus. The others stop at her crown, her pendant, her fierce words; Ingus looks into her eyes. He knows what it looks like to bear burdens; he still carries his in his gut, riding low and silent, an added weight to every slash of his sword.
So he takes the opportunity, once, as the Royal Princess' Master of the Guard walks her to her chambers, to stand just inside the door and reach out. Ingus takes her cloak, heavy with embroidery, and undoes the clasp.
Sara looks up at him, surprised.
He gently spreads it over a chair, and then moves to take the heavy Seal of Sasune from her neck. Sara allows it, breathless, and then she herself removes the jewels of office from her neck and fingers.
"Ingus?" she asks, once, a breath.
He smiles at her, crooked but sweet, and murmurs "Sara," right before he bends to kiss her. It is warm, and simple, and light - so light, no demand, only a gentle question she is happy to answer.
the weight of words (PG, Sara/Ingus)
She wears the weight of her role in pounds of flesh: her robes, the royal seal; her jewels, the royal bloodline; her titles, the Royal and Firstborn Princess-Regent Sarabella Altney of Sasune, White Wizard. She knows they see her as frail, an ornamental decoration; she does not mind, because she knows the power in underestimation. But it is a heavy load she bears, a weight that has turned her bones to steel and her eyes sharp. Some flowers break in the wind; she has been tempered, beneath the weight of gild and gemstone, and the power of her name.
The only one who sees is Ingus. The others stop at her crown, her pendant, her fierce words; Ingus looks into her eyes. He knows what it looks like to bear burdens; he still carries his in his gut, riding low and silent, an added weight to every slash of his sword.
So he takes the opportunity, once, as the Royal Princess' Master of the Guard walks her to her chambers, to stand just inside the door and reach out. Ingus takes her cloak, heavy with embroidery, and undoes the clasp.
Sara looks up at him, surprised.
He gently spreads it over a chair, and then moves to take the heavy Seal of Sasune from her neck. Sara allows it, breathless, and then she herself removes the jewels of office from her neck and fingers.
"Ingus?" she asks, once, a breath.
He smiles at her, crooked but sweet, and murmurs "Sara," right before he bends to kiss her. It is warm, and simple, and light - so light, no demand, only a gentle question she is happy to answer.