[Final Fantasy IV] Contrasts (Edward)
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rose_in_winterCharacters/Pairings: Edward
Rating: G
Contains: Endgame spoilers
Notes: Written forjack_of_none in newgameplus.
Wordcount: 976
Summary: Edward travels to Troia to strike his first treaty as King.
Beta:seventhe
Though he'd spent months in Troia recovering after Leviathan had struck their ship, Edward still found its verdant richness incomprehensible. To have enough water that every square in town had a generously splashing fountain, that houses could lavish it on flower gardens instead of hoarding every drop to feed the crops, was beyond credulity.
Of course he had seen other lands, in his travels as a bard, and many of them had been similarly blessed with fertile soil and an abundance of water. Still, after only a month back home in Damcyan, he had grown accustomed enough to the arid heat that Troia seemed almost cold.
"The Epopts will see you now, King Edward," the soldier said, breaking his reverie.
"Thank you," he replied, and allowed himself to be conducted into the large chamber where the eight Epopts governed Troia, speaking as one in their proclamations. He wondered if ever they disagreed, and if so, how they resolved it. He had, on occasion, overheard his parents engaging in spirited debate about how best to rule Damcyan, and he knew there had been problems that had gone unresolved until his parents could reach an accord, though Queen Claudia had held no legal power over the land.
"Greetings, King Edward." Eight voices rang in unison as the eight Epopts bowed to him, hands folded in the sleeves of their purple clerical robes.
"Greetings, Epopts," he replied, bowing. "I apologize for coming without gifts."
"We understand your position," the eldest of them replied. "We have all had much to heal in the aftermath of Golbez's actions."
The Epopt to her left—save for the eldest among them, Edward was unsure how they had divided rank between themselves—made a graceful gesture of opening her hands. "We received your request for negotiations," she said. "Please, be seated, that we might converse in comfort."
Edward advanced to the sole empty chair at their circular table and took his seat. He had to take a deep breath and clasp his hands before him to constrain their trembling. Though he had sat in rulership over Damcyan for the past half-year after Cecil's victory, this was the first time he had had cause to enter into massive negotiations on Damcyan's behalf with another power. He thought of Anna's firm resolve, and used it to steel himself.
The musical sound of a fountain filled the silence. Edward marveled once more at the richness of this land. His fingers itched for his harp, to harmonize with the water.
"As you know," he said, shaking off his reverie, "Damcyan has long made itself a trade hub, earning much of our living from that practice."
The Epopt to the right of the eldest nodded. "You are well-situated for it. Lacking the blessings of the Earth Crystal, it was a good way for your nation to flourish."
"Yes." Edward hesitated. Perhaps he should have gone with his initial impulse, and offered these services to Cecil instead, but he had committed to at least speaking here. "Damcyan is rich in ores and stone that may be quarried, but we are not a populous nation—nor, in truth, would we have the resources to feed a large population if we did have it. Troia, in turn, has a great many people but few such deposits."
"We have not had need of them." Edward guessed the speaker was the youngest of the Epopts from her comparatively unlined face and the quickness of her movements. "Our army serves to defend us, and they must move quickly, not be encased in steel."
"Yet I noticed, when I was here, that sometimes your cities have trouble with fire," Edward said. "You build primarily of wood, save for this castle."
The eldest looked sharply at him, and he thought she divined some of his plan. "What do you propose?" she asked, her voice very neutral.
"An agreement—five years, for a start—for Troia to provide some people, and primarily food supplies, and in exchange, we would mine stone and ship it here for you to build with." Having spoken his plan aloud, he felt oddly tranquil. The words were out, for them to accept or deny as they chose; and, truly, it was not such an ill exchange, not for the span of time. It would give him time to get the mines truly running, and if they chose not to renew it at the conclusion, he would be able to hire other workers from Fabul or Baron, and trade in the normal fashion for the foodstuffs to support them. All he needed was the initial boost, and he was not too proud to ask.
Though the Epopts did not speak, he had the distinct sense that they communicated in silence. He waited patiently.
"I offer only this amendment: that the contract be for three years," the eldest of the Epopts said.
Edward had expected such bargaining, and three years was a wiser choice for both of them, yet the act of negotiating kept either side from looking either the bully or the capitulator. "Three years, then," he said.
"Our Steward will draw up terms, and submit them to you. In the meantime, you are welcome to visit here," the eldest Epopt continued.
Edward rose and bowed to her. "I will gratefully accept your hospitality."
"Perhaps this evening, you could play for us?" the youngest asked tentatively.
That brought him a true smile. "Nothing would please me more," he said gravely.
He felt as though the weight that had pressed upon him since the Red Wings' attack was slowly sliding away. He had ruled Damcyan with no disasters thus far, and had arranged a fair treaty with Troia. How different, he thought, than this time last year, when he had lain broken and despairing in a bed in this very castle.
Somewhere, Anna was smiling.
Rating: G
Contains: Endgame spoilers
Notes: Written for
jack_of_none in newgameplus.Wordcount: 976
Summary: Edward travels to Troia to strike his first treaty as King.
Beta:
seventheThough he'd spent months in Troia recovering after Leviathan had struck their ship, Edward still found its verdant richness incomprehensible. To have enough water that every square in town had a generously splashing fountain, that houses could lavish it on flower gardens instead of hoarding every drop to feed the crops, was beyond credulity.
Of course he had seen other lands, in his travels as a bard, and many of them had been similarly blessed with fertile soil and an abundance of water. Still, after only a month back home in Damcyan, he had grown accustomed enough to the arid heat that Troia seemed almost cold.
"The Epopts will see you now, King Edward," the soldier said, breaking his reverie.
"Thank you," he replied, and allowed himself to be conducted into the large chamber where the eight Epopts governed Troia, speaking as one in their proclamations. He wondered if ever they disagreed, and if so, how they resolved it. He had, on occasion, overheard his parents engaging in spirited debate about how best to rule Damcyan, and he knew there had been problems that had gone unresolved until his parents could reach an accord, though Queen Claudia had held no legal power over the land.
"Greetings, King Edward." Eight voices rang in unison as the eight Epopts bowed to him, hands folded in the sleeves of their purple clerical robes.
"Greetings, Epopts," he replied, bowing. "I apologize for coming without gifts."
"We understand your position," the eldest of them replied. "We have all had much to heal in the aftermath of Golbez's actions."
The Epopt to her left—save for the eldest among them, Edward was unsure how they had divided rank between themselves—made a graceful gesture of opening her hands. "We received your request for negotiations," she said. "Please, be seated, that we might converse in comfort."
Edward advanced to the sole empty chair at their circular table and took his seat. He had to take a deep breath and clasp his hands before him to constrain their trembling. Though he had sat in rulership over Damcyan for the past half-year after Cecil's victory, this was the first time he had had cause to enter into massive negotiations on Damcyan's behalf with another power. He thought of Anna's firm resolve, and used it to steel himself.
The musical sound of a fountain filled the silence. Edward marveled once more at the richness of this land. His fingers itched for his harp, to harmonize with the water.
"As you know," he said, shaking off his reverie, "Damcyan has long made itself a trade hub, earning much of our living from that practice."
The Epopt to the right of the eldest nodded. "You are well-situated for it. Lacking the blessings of the Earth Crystal, it was a good way for your nation to flourish."
"Yes." Edward hesitated. Perhaps he should have gone with his initial impulse, and offered these services to Cecil instead, but he had committed to at least speaking here. "Damcyan is rich in ores and stone that may be quarried, but we are not a populous nation—nor, in truth, would we have the resources to feed a large population if we did have it. Troia, in turn, has a great many people but few such deposits."
"We have not had need of them." Edward guessed the speaker was the youngest of the Epopts from her comparatively unlined face and the quickness of her movements. "Our army serves to defend us, and they must move quickly, not be encased in steel."
"Yet I noticed, when I was here, that sometimes your cities have trouble with fire," Edward said. "You build primarily of wood, save for this castle."
The eldest looked sharply at him, and he thought she divined some of his plan. "What do you propose?" she asked, her voice very neutral.
"An agreement—five years, for a start—for Troia to provide some people, and primarily food supplies, and in exchange, we would mine stone and ship it here for you to build with." Having spoken his plan aloud, he felt oddly tranquil. The words were out, for them to accept or deny as they chose; and, truly, it was not such an ill exchange, not for the span of time. It would give him time to get the mines truly running, and if they chose not to renew it at the conclusion, he would be able to hire other workers from Fabul or Baron, and trade in the normal fashion for the foodstuffs to support them. All he needed was the initial boost, and he was not too proud to ask.
Though the Epopts did not speak, he had the distinct sense that they communicated in silence. He waited patiently.
"I offer only this amendment: that the contract be for three years," the eldest of the Epopts said.
Edward had expected such bargaining, and three years was a wiser choice for both of them, yet the act of negotiating kept either side from looking either the bully or the capitulator. "Three years, then," he said.
"Our Steward will draw up terms, and submit them to you. In the meantime, you are welcome to visit here," the eldest Epopt continued.
Edward rose and bowed to her. "I will gratefully accept your hospitality."
"Perhaps this evening, you could play for us?" the youngest asked tentatively.
That brought him a true smile. "Nothing would please me more," he said gravely.
He felt as though the weight that had pressed upon him since the Red Wings' attack was slowly sliding away. He had ruled Damcyan with no disasters thus far, and had arranged a fair treaty with Troia. How different, he thought, than this time last year, when he had lain broken and despairing in a bed in this very castle.
Somewhere, Anna was smiling.