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21_days2015-07-17 06:13 pm
21 Days of Valdemar!
Welcome to 21 Days of Valdemar!
Put on your party hats - it’s time for the Dead Vanyel Memorial Party! Vanyel is OFFICIALLY the Woobiest of the Woobies, and we celebrate in his honour!
WE'RE DONE.
No More Fills posted here! Post to AO3 or FF.Net and post the link here!
Discussion Post | Mod Call Post | Resources Post
Schedule
Day 1 -Aug. 9 - Prompts! You will have seven days to put as many prompts as you'd like on this post. And if you start writing them early, well that's just good planning!
Day 8 - Aug. 16 - Prompting ends, posting begins! You have 14 days to write, draw, and potentially diorama as many prompts as you can.
Day 19 - Aug. 27 - This is the cut-off day for prompters to reply to any questions about their prompt. Unanswered questions are considered enthusiastic agreement.
Day 21 - Aug. 29 - Last day of posting! All fills must be posted by 11:59 PM North American Mountain Time.
Day 22 - Aug. 30 - Party time! You now have the option of going unanon and reposting everything you've done to AO3 under our fancy AO3 Collection. Or unanoning in whatever manner you please.
(Click on the dates for countdowns; the fest is following MDT/Mountain Time)
For the purposes of this fest, the prompts themselves are warnings. If you have issues with this policy, we recommend either not participating or using Dreamwidth blocker.
Joining the 21_days community is optional for prompters, fillers, and all interested parties; we have some extra content for comm members, but this prompt/fill post, the discussion post, and the mod call post are open for everyone.
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For Prompters and Readers
- Subject lines should include the series, characters and/or pairing you want. Feel free to be as descriptive as you'd like. Warnings aren't required, but they also aren't banned.
- You don't have to write or draw. It's anon, there's no IP-tracking, and we aren't going to stalk you.
- Do not comment on other people's prompts to try and change pairings or characters. Post your own version with the characters you want instead.
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- No claiming prompts, please, as multiple fills are welcome!
- Minimum wordcount per fill is 100 words.
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- RPF of underage people is not allowed. We're not even sure if it's possible for Valdemar fic, but whatever. It's not allowed.
** "extreme kinks" for the purposes of this exchange include but are not necessarily limited to: extreme underage, major character death, scat/watersports/emetophilia, extreme gore, and bestiality. Please use reasonable discretion, and ask a mod if you have any questions!
For Everyone
This is a Choose Not to Warn fest. At no point will any comment be deleted for failure to warn of its content in the subject lines. They will be deleted for rampaging dickery and failure to follow the rules.
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Prompts posted after the end of the 7th day will be deleted.
Links to off-meme posts posted prior to end of the 21st day will be deleted.
Concerns are to be directed to the MOD CALL post. If posted here, they will be deleted.
Fills that have spectacularly failed to fulfill the prompt/been posted to the wrong spot will be screened. You can request a copy of your work at the MOD CALL post.
The rules may change without warning in response to unforeseen circumstances, like us thinking of better ones.
FILL: Equilibrium - 7/9
(Anonymous) 2015-08-29 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)Vanyel happened on the confrontation by chance. He'd been trying to slip past the Hall unnoticed, eager to get back to the quiet of the suite after a long and stressful day. Perhaps it was just the lingering distress of the previous days, or the knowledge that something might yet happen, hanging perilously over his head; maybe it was the fact that everyone around seemed to be grating on him, their voices and feelings and sharp voices too much for him to bear.
He had passed the doors and hesitated, feet slowing to a stop. Without knowing why, he slipped inside, trying to stay quiet and unnoticed as he approached the back of the gathered circle with careful steps.
But nobody was paying attention to him, not with this scene in front of them. Vanyel even caught sight of some Heralds and Bards listening in, when they usually left the young courtiers of the Court well enough alone. Some of them, Vanyel noticed, seemed like they might be here just for this—
Which may be exactly what Evan Leshara wants, Vanyel thought with a leaden, sinking feeling in his stomach.
"What a surprise to see you here, Lord Frelennye," Leshara was saying, voice smooth and almost soft. He had the air of someone used to speaking into a din and expecting everyone to strain to hang onto his hushed tones. His posture was relaxed, palms open, as if pleading for reason. He had a light smile, and although he came barely up to Staven's shoulder, he seemed to command attention with his presence that made mere height seem inconsequential.
Next to him, Vanyel thought, Staven's wild charisma and roaring anger seemed like the tantrums of a child.
"Now that's difficult to believe," Staven shot back, raising one eyebrow. "I'd wager you knew I was here before I did."
That was met with a scattering of giggles, murmured laughter.
Leshara raised his eyebrows. "I hope you're not implying that I'm a liar, Lord Frelennye," he murmured.
"I'm not implying anything." Staven shrugged expansively. "But I can read the mood. This is the time and place you chose, is it? Well, here you have me—let's see your worst."
It was as outright a challenge as any, and Vanyel saw a faint flicker in Leshara's eyes, interrupting his otherwise composed demeanor.
"I must confess, I was hoping to speak with you," Leshara said. That brief moment was gone, slipping away behind the mask again. "What with the situation at hand—if there's anything I may be able to do to help bring this unpleasant situation to an end… well, I'm only to happy to."
He looked earnest, reasonable. Vanyel felt himself hesitate. The Lesharas had suggested a resolution; perhaps they really did want to bring this to a close. Just because—
No! He jolted a little, feeling startled. That wasn't right. They were trying to take advantage of the situation. They were trying to manipulate everyone, just as Leshara was trying to manipulate the crowd right now. Vanyel saw echoes of his brief acknowledgement in the faces of those around him: they were buying it, surely, and Staven—
Staven was already beginning to grow angrier. His eyes were narrowed, his lip curling slightly. Where Leshara's poise drew the crowd to them, comforting and effortless, Staven's passion was overwhelming. And, Vanyel knew from experience, it would only get worse. The same vibrancy that drew others to him when he was wielding it would double back to harm him when he was the one being wielded by it.
But then the tension dissipated, and Staven raised an eyebrow, expression composed and a little questioning. "Much as the sentiment is appreciated," he said, "I believe the issue is in the Court's hands. The tempers of men can be unreliable, especially where past hurts and emotions are involved, don't you think? I'm content to see where that leads."
Vanyel felt his mouth drop open, and he was sure his wasn't the only one. Somehow, Staven was managing so far. He was holding onto his temper, Vanyel could tell, with some effort. But Vanyel had seen the real Staven. He knew with sudden, sinking clarity, that it wasn't going to last.
Leshara himself looked quite poleaxed for a moment, though he recovered more swiftly than most. "Then why are you here?" he demanded, too quickly. "If not to lean your weight on proceedings?"
Staven chuckled. "For someone who knows so very much about my business," he answered archly, "you seem to have forgotten that I've a brother here. Politics aside, my family is important to me."
"Ah, yes," Leshara was staring at him, lip curling very slightly. "Tylendel. We've certainly heard… a great deal about his… activities lately, as well. I daresay—"
Staven's eyes darkened, but his interruption came swiftly: "Herald-Trainee Tylendel, yes."
Following that line of attack was suddenly dangerous, Leshara seemed to realize, his gaze darting briefly to the Heralds at the back of the group, reaffirming Vanyel's suspicion that Leshara had planned this confrontation carefully. He'd known they were there.
Why? To discredit Staven in front of as many people as possible. People who matter. And if he's not careful, Staven is going to fall right into his trap.
But, Vanyel realized, Leshara now had to be careful, too. By emphasizing Tylendel as a Herald, by reacting calmly, Staven had almost managed to turn the tables and use Leshara's own weapon against him.
Leshara was very well aware, and was changing tactics accordingly. "Of course," he murmured, suddenly sympathetic. "I imagine, after the loss of your parents, so young…"
Vanyel sucked in a sharp breath and covered his mouth with a hand before he could stop himself. Here it was. He knew what Staven's anger felt like and he'd barely been in the crossfire of that roiling, churning vitriol. Staven seemed to have weathered somehow under the jab at his brother, but this—
Staven was silent, expression almost terrifyingly blank. Just for a beat, no longer than Vanyel's gasp and a collective murmuring gasp of the crowd. Here it is—
Much to his own surprise, Vanyel suddenly felt a fierce stab of desperate longing that replaced the sinking sense of finality. No—it wasn't inevitable. Staven… Staven was—
You're doing so well, Vanyel thought frantically. I know that this must hurt, but you're doing so well—Staven, oh gods, Staven, please—
Staven's gaze seemed to turn inwards for a moment. Then, he ducked his head. His shoulders hunched; his expression, when he looked back up again, was pained and vulnerable. "It helps to be with the family I have left," he said, gazed fixed on Leshara. "He has his duty as a Herald—though I hope I can't be begrudged a short visit."
He gestured helplessly, amused and self-deprecating, drawing gentle sympathetic laughter from the courtiers closest to him. They'd moved closer, closing the circle around him so that Staven stood with others at his back, eying Leshara with barely-restrained disapproval.
Vanyel let out a breath and felt awed.
He's won them over again, he thought. He swallowed his reaction and turned it aside. He felt a wave of sympathy for the other boy. Gods, that must have hurt…
"I apologize if my concern was unneeded," Leshara pushed out through his teeth, with the expression of a man aware he was rapidly losing ground. "Nevertheless, in the hopes that negotiations won't be impacted—"
Staven waved a hand, gathering himself up, tall and broad, with the expansive gesture of one completely in control. "I'll be returning home so quickly you won't have time to miss me," he said dismissively, with a rakish grin. "I've a brief audience with Her Majesty, but I'll soon be off. As much as one prepares to make sure their home is safe while they're gone, I can't help but want to be there. Gods," he let out an infectious laugh, "I can only imagine what will happen if old man Wustfeld shows up with that sheep problem again. He won't talk to anybody but me, and last time, I swear to you—"
He continued jovially with his undoubtedly rousing tale, but his words were now aimed more at the group than at Leshara directly—as though he'd let go of the grip that held on their conversation between the two of them, telling Leshara with no room for debate that their conversation was over.
Evan Leshara was dismissed.
Vanyel was filled with a deep, powerful feeling of elated pride; Leshara was furious. As the large group began to shift and disperse, Vanyel felt Leshara's gaze fall on him, and met his eyes, frozen.
Damn—
He couldn't escape. Leshara was approaching him, and although most of the crowd were now talking amongst themselves, Vanyel could still feel some eyes and ears on them; could sense that this exchange would be watched attentively.
If he somehow ruined everything that Staven had just done for them…
"Vanyel Ashkevron, isn't it?" Leshara inclined his head slightly. "I've heard much about you. I'm very sorry you had to see that…"
No.
"I'm sorry I had to see that," Vanyel answered with a peal of laughter, much louder than Leshara had expected from his own soft tone. He watched the other man jump and jerk back with no small amount of satisfaction. "You must be perfectly desperate if you're coming to speak with me after all that."
Leshara stared at him. "I'm not sure what you could possibly—"
Vanyel spread both hands, looking around them. He had garnered a small audience again already, most of whom seemed vaguely amused to see Vanyel, not-so-secretly despised by the working members of the Court, grinding Evan Leshara even further under his heel. "I was hoping to see Lord Frelennye lose his temper as much as the next person," he drawled, "but I find that this was thoroughly disappointing. And after you'd gone through the trouble of gathering such an audience!"
Leshara's eyes narrowed sharply. Vanyel heard one of the courtiers draw in a breath. He saw one of the Heralds' eyes widen, and noticed her incline her head, murmuring something to the shorter man standing next to her.
Vanyel pushed on. "That said, I'm quite sick of the whole business. The less I have to do with the Frelennyes, the better. After the incident with—the other one," he let disdain drip from his tongue, "I've had nothing but headaches. Apparently he's well-liked—I know I could hardly believe it." He allowed himself a conspiratorial arch of one eyebrow. "If I were you, I'd leave the two of them alone."
Leshara's lip curled, but his prying gaze found no purchase in Vanyel's aggressive disaffectation.
"My sympathies to you, then," Leshara said stiffly, and turned to leave. "Good evening to you."
Well, I've just made an enemy, Vanyel thought wryly as he watched Leshara's back disappear into the crowd. He couldn't find it in himself to mind too much.
He turned to leave as well, then froze as his gaze met Staven's from over the heads of some of the other courtiers. Staven's head was inclined slightly as he half-listened to something Tashi was saying, but his eyes were locked on Vanyel's.
Vanyel stared back, helplessly caught. He felt hot, then cold, and his breath caught. Staven's expression was open, easy to read—appraising, appreciative, and yearning. He knew Vanyel had seen everything. And Vanyel knew that Staven must have at least noticed the ramifications of his own brief exchange with Leshara, even if he couldn't hear the words.
Vanyel met his gaze and liked everything that he saw. He didn't dare smile, but he tried to make his own eyes say the same, hoping that the message was one that Staven would understand but anybody else that happened to catch it wouldn't understand. In response, Staven's mouth curved in the first sincere smile Vanyel had been on the receiving end of—and Vanyel gasped softly under the intensity of it.
Staven mercifully glanced away first, and Vanyel took advantage of the moment to escape as quickly as he could without drawing more attention to himself, both hands clutched to his chest as they could somehow force his heart to stop hammering.
He headed for the Field, knowing—somehow—that he would find 'Lendel there.
Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 7/9
(Anonymous) 2015-08-29 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 7/9
(Anonymous) 2015-08-30 01:22 am (UTC)(link)Thank you so much ♥ I'm so, so glad that you're enjoying his character—writing someone in that has little to no characterization in canon is always tricky, so hearing that people are enjoying him really makes my day.
Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 7/9
(Anonymous) 2015-08-29 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Equilibrium - 7/9
(Anonymous) 2015-08-30 01:23 am (UTC)(link)Yesss, ripple effects in canon divergence are hella my jam. I'm very glad you're finding it interesting, and thank you so much for the comment!