treasure rewrite - chapter two
Aug. 4th, 2006 06:44 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrIn which Raiden does his best to get himself killed.
Am trying, this time around, to do more justice to those elements I mentioned but never really did much with. I don't think it was ever really made clear how much Raiden likes being a merchant.
Or just how snarly Kin can really be. Heh. Here's hoping I did a bit better of a job with these two this time.
Chapter Two
Raiden stepped into his warehouse with a relieved sigh – it wasn’t much cooler inside, but it was shaded. As light as his fabrics were, they were no match for the sweltering heat of a later afternoon in Kundou. And it was only spring.
He looked around, nodding briefly at the sailors and dock workers who hailed him, quirking a brow at the grins they flashed before ducking back to their work, organizing various boxes and trunks, casks and barrels, all of it either going to be sold, traded, or loaded onto the Fuujin eventually. A snort of laughter broke his thoughts, and Raiden eyed the man but before he could demand to know what was so vastly amusing, the source itself spoke from behind him.
“There’s a message for you from the palace,” the voice was filled with Extreme Displeasure. Looked like some poor messenger boy had interrupted Kindan while he’d been working.
Raiden turned and eyed his irate Captain, unable to resist an urge to push that temper just a little bit further. “Oh? What does it say?”
“Do I look like your secretary?” Kindan asked icily.
Raiden tilted his head, giving his Captain a thorough going over.
They were nearly matched in height, Kindan just barely taller than he was. Despite the fact that nearly all his time was spent at sea, commanding whichever ship Raiden chose for his travels, his skin was so pale as to be nearly white, with just enough color to avoid making him look ill. His close-cropped hair was pale, pale blonde, the gold in it only just visible sunlight. In the dim light of the warehouse, it looked white. By stark contrast, a single black pearl gleamed in one ear. His clothes were plain – a short, simple, pale gray tunic and loose black pants tucked into knee-high boots. The sash around his waist was dark blue, stitched intermittently with clusters of silver stars. “No,” Raiden finally said.
“Then why are you asking me what your message said?” Kindan snapped. “If you’re too lazy to read your own letters, hire a secretary. I’ve got enough work to do around here.”
Raiden laughed and raised his arms in defeat. “All right, all right. Get back to whatever it is your sailors do on land. Though what you do without men to boss around or knots to tie or sails to repair…” He laughed harder at the look of fury on Kindan’s face. “Or you could share a drink with me and admire my new treasure while I read the message.”
“I will take the drink, but only because throwing you into the harbor would entail fishing you out again – as I doubt you’d be kind enough to drown – and we’re too busy for nonsense.”
“Yes, Kin,” Raiden said tolerantly, grinning as he led the way through the warehouse where he stored most of his goods and up the stairs to the office. Inside, he poured them glasses of dark Verde brandy and then took a seat behind a wide, dark wooden desk piled carelessly with more papers and ledgers and books than he remembered owning. Confounded paperwork. It would destroy him long before anything else could. “Where is my message?”
Kin’s blue-gray eyes flashed in warning. “Do I look like your secretary?”
Raiden rolled his eyes and shifted papers around until a small scroll case marked with the royal symbol – three dragons twisting and turning around each other in a rounded-off triangle. Opening it, he slid out the scroll inside and read it quickly – then smirked. “I wondered when I’d be getting one of these.”
“You mean a request like the others have been getting?” Kin asked, tilting his head back and downing his brandy in one swallow. He set the glass down with a clink on the wooden table to his left. “To play escort to some bratty prince.”
Sliding Kin an amused glance, Raiden rolled the scroll back up and returned it to the case, then set it carefully in a drawer so it wouldn’t get lost again. He kicked his feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles, and reclined in his seat. “So I’m guessing you’re vote on the venture is ‘no’ then?”
“My vote is ‘I’d rather run naked through town in the middle of winter.’”
Raiden tapped his chin, staring thoughtfully at him. “That does force me to reconsider my options.”
“I’m ignoring that. What concerns me is that you sound like you want to say yes.”
“Why not?” Raiden said with a shrug. “It probably pays fairly well. If he offers less than 300,000 paaru I’ll be amazed.”
“And offended,” Kindan added dryly. “We can make just as much money continuing as we’d already planned – Pozhar, Verde, sell most of that in Piedre and pick up what we’ll need on our next venture here. We could sail home in style and with far less of a headache than babysitting what will no doubt be a thoroughly spoiled brat for Storms only know how many months. I’m a sailor, not a babysitter.”
Raiden waved his words away. “You’re a pessimist, dear Captain. How do you know Prince Nankyokukai isn’t the epitome of grace and goodness?”
Kindan gave him a withering look and went to get more brandy. “Please tell me you’re just harassing me and not actually considering this madness. Tell him no and let us get on with business.”
“Ah, but there’s a fine treasure involved now.”
“What treasure is that?” Kindan asked with a long-suffering sigh, knocking back his second brandy.
Raiden smiled and pulled a black leather case from within his robes, setting it on top of a haphazard stack of papers, opening it with a flourish. “Take a look at these.”
Kindan eyed the choker of black pearls and esmeralda. “Not as fine as some you have, though it comes close. I’m confused. Obviously you already have the treasure, Shima.”
“Hardly. This is a trinket. No, the real treasure is the man who was furious I got the necklace rather than he.” A beautiful treasure, especially the way those eyes flashed, the way that slender form moved, like water rushing up the shore. Skin meant for touching. He not seen anyone half so stunning for a long time. “Lord Takara Noumi. He’s as fierce of temper as all the rumors say.” He smirked. “Could probably give you a run for your money, Kin. I think he wanted to take the necklace and choke me with it.”
“Splendid. So not only are you telling me you want to be stuck with a spoiled, bratty prince who probably knows nothing of what life at sea it truly like, for six months, but that you also are hoping to drag along his tantrum-throwing secretary. No.”
Raiden chuckled and sipped his own brandy, shutting the leather case and returning it to his robes. “I doubt his Highness is wholly ignorant of sailing – it would look stupid indeed if a Prince of a nation so reliant upon water did not know his way around a ship. Regardless, all the knowledge in the world can’t prepare anyone for dealing with life on one of your ships.”
“What, precisely, are you trying to say?” Kindan asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Raiden asked, eyes wide with innocence. “You’re a perfect sailor, Kin. Especially for your tender years.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” Kin retorted. “Hardly tender, especially when most of that has been spent with you.”
Raiden rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’d think after all these years some of my mellowness would have taken hold of you.”
“If by ‘mellow’ you mean ‘lazy’ then most certainly not. One of us has to keep this business running.” He looked pointedly at the mounds of paperwork.
“Oh, shut up. Just for that I’ve decided that yes, we’re going to agree to whatever his Highness demands.”
Kindan groaned. “Is there anything I can do to convince you not to go through with this idiocy? Anything?”
Raiden smirked. “Run naked through the streets.”
“I hate you,” Kindan replied. “If anything goes wrong on this voyage, Shima, I am placing the blame entirely at your feet and taking myself off to another merchant the moment we’re back in Kundou. I mean it. Storms take it, are you seriously doing this simply because you’re taken with a pretty face?”
“It’s far more serious than a pretty face, Kin,” Raiden said, dropping his feet back to the floor and leaning forward earnestly. “Far more serious.”
“This seems like a strange way to go about a courtship,” Kin replied, eyeing him, obviously not believing a word Raiden was saying.
Raiden scoffed. “What could possibly be better than having him all to myself in the middle of the ocean for months on end? Never mind all the countries we’ll be visiting.”
“Oh, yes,” Kin said acidly. “Pozhar is so very romantic. Perhaps we can take in a sacrifice while we’re there. That’s sure to win a man’s heart.”
“They do what they feel they must,” Raiden said, turning suddenly serious.
Kin shook his head. “I will not condone such deaths and you know it. Let us move on to happier subjects, old friend, before you get my ire up.”
“Old friend, your ire is always up. One day I will manage the trick of calming it, and on that day I shall no doubt also bring the world to an end.” Raiden chuckled over the rim of his crystal glass, sipping at his brandy while Kin stared at him in disgust.
“Better to always be irate and getting work done that to be lazy and easily distracted by pretty faces.”
Raiden let out an inelegant snort. “Kin, I’m the one who first started taking you to – oh, what’s that phrase that’s become popular now. Ah, yes. I’m the one who first started taking you to the disreputable streets. Someone in this room has a taste for pretty faces and it’s not me.”
“Perhaps, but I’m not easily distracted by them,” Kin said, though his pale skin, already warmed by alcohol, flushed a shade darker. “Note that my ship can leave at a moment’s notice whereas your desk would take a good month to sort, never mind pack.”
“You claim not to be my secretary, Kin, yet you’ve already complained more than any secretary would – or a wife for that matter. Who is paying who here, exactly?” Raiden grinned as he spoke, obviously unaffected by anything Kin said to him.
Kin gave a long suffering sigh and leaned back against the bar that held the brandy and stacks of papers and ledgers that were further evidence of Raiden’s loathing for his paperwork. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave another sigh and looked pleadingly at his friend and employer. “Raiden. Please. Nothing good will come of this trip.”
“Nonsense. If I have my way, plenty of good will come of this trip. Look on the positive side, Kin – it’s something new, something challenging. I often think our routine voyages bore you.”
“Not with the latest threat, never mind the usual ones and putting up with you, customs, your talent for obtaining things that aren’t covered by your permits…need I go on?”
“Do please.”
“Shima! Have you really thought about this? Best case scenario, this stupid prince wants to take a grand voyage to Pozhar. That’s a bare minimum of five months. If he suddenly decides to turn around? We’ve lost the better part of a year, and I sincerely doubt whatever they pay us will be enough to recover our losses. I’m a sailor, you’re the merchant, why am I having to point this out to you?”
Raiden shook his head, chuckling softly. “Because you seem to think I haven’t already taken it into consideration.” He motioned to the mess scattered around his office. “Just because I let the paperwork fall behind doesn’t mean I don’t know the numbers, my own business. You know that.”
“Maybe,” Kin said stiffly.
“We’ll be fine. Never mind all the money we're making so far this trip, the goods we’ll be selling at Pozhar will go a long way toward making up whatever we lose indulging a prince’s whim. Beyond that, we still don’t know what he’s offering us and we don’t even know what destination he has in mind.”
Kindan did not appear soothed. “Knowing royalty, and from what I’ve head of that one in particular, it could be anywhere – or nowhere. Who knows. I’m not certain I’m paid enough for this.”
“Perhaps we should ask the Kumiko if you’re paid enough.”
“I think she would agree that I’m paid sufficiently for carrying you around the world, not nearly enough for putting up with you.”
Raiden smirked. “Ah, but Kin, who but me could ever put up with you?” He winked, negating any possible sting in the words.
“I think, Shima, that you’d have more trouble finding a Captain than I would a new ship,” Kind retorted, but Raiden could see by the way he relaxed his stance that Kin was beginning to relax.
“Let us call a truce, eh?”
“Not until you give up this mad scheme of yours.” Kin pushed off the counter he’d been leaning against – nearly upsetting the stacks of paper in the process – and approached the desk, looming over Raiden with his hands on his hips. “I can’t see this going any way but badly, and I swear by the Dragons if I wind up murdering royalty I will expect you to go to the chopping block in my stead.”
Raiden snickered. “So first you tell me now, but now you say ‘if it goes wrong it’s your fault’? Which is it Kin?”
Kin kicked him in the shin. Hard. “Obviously you’re not going to listen to me. Do whatever you want. But when it all turns into a storm, I am leaving you alone to drown in it. Are we clear?”
“Oh, crystal.” Raiden folded his arms behind his head and leaned back in his seat. “So what’s the status downstairs?”
Grunting, Kin moved away to resume leaning against the counter. “The silk is gone, of course. Sold at your price. You’re such a thief.”
“Man of business, Kin, man of business.”
“Thief,” Kin asserted. “The Highland jewelry went quickly, and somewhere in that mess on your desk is probably their demands for your next pass. We could make what the prince will give us just from continuing to fleece everyone on jewelry.”
Raiden chuckled. “I’m not fleecing anyone. Highland silver is hard to obtain. Those damn animals are so greedy with the stuff.” He sat up and began to reluctantly shift through the mess on his desk, half-heartedly separating everything into various piles until he came upon a sheaf of papers with familiar handwriting – neatly written orders with a spending limit, as well as a list of things the various jewelers he dealt with would like to have but likely wouldn’t get – not at prices they could afford anyway. He read through the list again, memorizing it, then threw it back into the mess. “What about the perfume and oils?”
“Most of it’s sold. If you’d stop being lazy and wasting your money at auctions – how did you outbid a royal secretary, by the way? – and work your manipulative ways, we’d sell the rest. So far as purchasing goes,” Kin shrugged. “We picked up the foodstuffs you think will sell in Piedre, and sashes to sell in Pozhar. Which is another thing – why are you having such elaborate sashes premade?” Kin looked horrified – even his simple sashes were made to order. Not even the poorest peasants would buy sashes ready made. Nobles had their custom ordered, the poor bought fabric to make their own. Walking into a shop and picking out a sash already made wasn’t done. “What would a Firelander know about sashes? They think they’re pretty and fashionably amusing. They’ll more than make up for what we paid for them and what we had to pay out for the silver.”
“What you charge for the silver makes up for what we spend on it – at least it did until you wasted it on yet another necklace.”
Raiden rolled his eyes and stood. “So says the man who hoards a dagger worth three times what my necklace is worth.”
“That’s different.”
“Of course it ,” Raiden replied, making sure his voice was as patronizing and indulgent as he could possibly make it. He watched Kin seethe. Biting back a laugh, Raiden passed by Kin and stopped in front of a tall cabinet. Pulling a small key hung on a fine chain from beneath his robe, he unlocked the doors and swung them open, baring row after row of shelves and little drawers. At the moment, most of them were empty, as he very rarely had any reason to keep more than a few items in it at any time. Right now it held only a broach made from Highland silver and esmeralda – a simple piece, but splendid all the same – and a necklace made from dark, blood-red rubi, square cut and set in gold.
Against lightly tanned skin and sea-green hair, they would look shocking, amazing. Not quite as stunning as the black pearls and esmeralda choker, but they would look good. He wondered how mad Lord Noumi would get if he mentioned it.
Probably very, which was pleasing. He liked tempers. Teasing his secretary was, he sensed, going to be even more amusing than tormenting Kin.
“What are you snickering about?” Kin asked sourly.
“Nothing much.” Raiden pulled out the leather case holding his new necklace from his robes and slipped it onto a shelf, then locked the cabinet back. “Anticipating tomorrow.”
Kin made a face. “I knew I should have taken the Kumiko out and not listened to you.”
“I’m your boss,” Raiden said. It was only a technicality, really. They were more partners than anything else, these days. He bought, sold, and charmed, Kin kept everything else in top shape. “You have to listen to me.”
“Only because I haven’t figured out how to shut you up yet.”
Raiden heaved a dramatic sigh. “No one appreciates all my hard work.”
Kindan looked at his desk again, then leveraged himself away from the counter and moved toward the door. “Why don’t you come work hard and maybe I’ll appreciate it. We’ve some fresh fish coming in about an hour to look at the perfumes – and they may be willing to trade.”
“Excellent,” Raiden said, grinning at the thought of what they could coax from perfume makers. Kundouin scents always sold well in Verde – both countries had a propensity for lighter, more subtle scents and flavors. He smoothed the scarf over his hair and shook out his robes. “Show me to our fresh fish, then.”
“But of course, my Lord Merchant,” Kin said with perfect formality, ruining the effect completely by rolling his eyes as he yanked the door open and stalked out.
Laughing, Raiden followed, part of his mind moving into business mode, anticipating his potential clients, planning what he’d say – but most of his mind was on what he would be doing tomorrow.
For tomorrow would be a fine day indeed.
Am trying, this time around, to do more justice to those elements I mentioned but never really did much with. I don't think it was ever really made clear how much Raiden likes being a merchant.
Or just how snarly Kin can really be. Heh. Here's hoping I did a bit better of a job with these two this time.
Chapter Two
Raiden stepped into his warehouse with a relieved sigh – it wasn’t much cooler inside, but it was shaded. As light as his fabrics were, they were no match for the sweltering heat of a later afternoon in Kundou. And it was only spring.
He looked around, nodding briefly at the sailors and dock workers who hailed him, quirking a brow at the grins they flashed before ducking back to their work, organizing various boxes and trunks, casks and barrels, all of it either going to be sold, traded, or loaded onto the Fuujin eventually. A snort of laughter broke his thoughts, and Raiden eyed the man but before he could demand to know what was so vastly amusing, the source itself spoke from behind him.
“There’s a message for you from the palace,” the voice was filled with Extreme Displeasure. Looked like some poor messenger boy had interrupted Kindan while he’d been working.
Raiden turned and eyed his irate Captain, unable to resist an urge to push that temper just a little bit further. “Oh? What does it say?”
“Do I look like your secretary?” Kindan asked icily.
Raiden tilted his head, giving his Captain a thorough going over.
They were nearly matched in height, Kindan just barely taller than he was. Despite the fact that nearly all his time was spent at sea, commanding whichever ship Raiden chose for his travels, his skin was so pale as to be nearly white, with just enough color to avoid making him look ill. His close-cropped hair was pale, pale blonde, the gold in it only just visible sunlight. In the dim light of the warehouse, it looked white. By stark contrast, a single black pearl gleamed in one ear. His clothes were plain – a short, simple, pale gray tunic and loose black pants tucked into knee-high boots. The sash around his waist was dark blue, stitched intermittently with clusters of silver stars. “No,” Raiden finally said.
“Then why are you asking me what your message said?” Kindan snapped. “If you’re too lazy to read your own letters, hire a secretary. I’ve got enough work to do around here.”
Raiden laughed and raised his arms in defeat. “All right, all right. Get back to whatever it is your sailors do on land. Though what you do without men to boss around or knots to tie or sails to repair…” He laughed harder at the look of fury on Kindan’s face. “Or you could share a drink with me and admire my new treasure while I read the message.”
“I will take the drink, but only because throwing you into the harbor would entail fishing you out again – as I doubt you’d be kind enough to drown – and we’re too busy for nonsense.”
“Yes, Kin,” Raiden said tolerantly, grinning as he led the way through the warehouse where he stored most of his goods and up the stairs to the office. Inside, he poured them glasses of dark Verde brandy and then took a seat behind a wide, dark wooden desk piled carelessly with more papers and ledgers and books than he remembered owning. Confounded paperwork. It would destroy him long before anything else could. “Where is my message?”
Kin’s blue-gray eyes flashed in warning. “Do I look like your secretary?”
Raiden rolled his eyes and shifted papers around until a small scroll case marked with the royal symbol – three dragons twisting and turning around each other in a rounded-off triangle. Opening it, he slid out the scroll inside and read it quickly – then smirked. “I wondered when I’d be getting one of these.”
“You mean a request like the others have been getting?” Kin asked, tilting his head back and downing his brandy in one swallow. He set the glass down with a clink on the wooden table to his left. “To play escort to some bratty prince.”
Sliding Kin an amused glance, Raiden rolled the scroll back up and returned it to the case, then set it carefully in a drawer so it wouldn’t get lost again. He kicked his feet up on the desk, crossing them at the ankles, and reclined in his seat. “So I’m guessing you’re vote on the venture is ‘no’ then?”
“My vote is ‘I’d rather run naked through town in the middle of winter.’”
Raiden tapped his chin, staring thoughtfully at him. “That does force me to reconsider my options.”
“I’m ignoring that. What concerns me is that you sound like you want to say yes.”
“Why not?” Raiden said with a shrug. “It probably pays fairly well. If he offers less than 300,000 paaru I’ll be amazed.”
“And offended,” Kindan added dryly. “We can make just as much money continuing as we’d already planned – Pozhar, Verde, sell most of that in Piedre and pick up what we’ll need on our next venture here. We could sail home in style and with far less of a headache than babysitting what will no doubt be a thoroughly spoiled brat for Storms only know how many months. I’m a sailor, not a babysitter.”
Raiden waved his words away. “You’re a pessimist, dear Captain. How do you know Prince Nankyokukai isn’t the epitome of grace and goodness?”
Kindan gave him a withering look and went to get more brandy. “Please tell me you’re just harassing me and not actually considering this madness. Tell him no and let us get on with business.”
“Ah, but there’s a fine treasure involved now.”
“What treasure is that?” Kindan asked with a long-suffering sigh, knocking back his second brandy.
Raiden smiled and pulled a black leather case from within his robes, setting it on top of a haphazard stack of papers, opening it with a flourish. “Take a look at these.”
Kindan eyed the choker of black pearls and esmeralda. “Not as fine as some you have, though it comes close. I’m confused. Obviously you already have the treasure, Shima.”
“Hardly. This is a trinket. No, the real treasure is the man who was furious I got the necklace rather than he.” A beautiful treasure, especially the way those eyes flashed, the way that slender form moved, like water rushing up the shore. Skin meant for touching. He not seen anyone half so stunning for a long time. “Lord Takara Noumi. He’s as fierce of temper as all the rumors say.” He smirked. “Could probably give you a run for your money, Kin. I think he wanted to take the necklace and choke me with it.”
“Splendid. So not only are you telling me you want to be stuck with a spoiled, bratty prince who probably knows nothing of what life at sea it truly like, for six months, but that you also are hoping to drag along his tantrum-throwing secretary. No.”
Raiden chuckled and sipped his own brandy, shutting the leather case and returning it to his robes. “I doubt his Highness is wholly ignorant of sailing – it would look stupid indeed if a Prince of a nation so reliant upon water did not know his way around a ship. Regardless, all the knowledge in the world can’t prepare anyone for dealing with life on one of your ships.”
“What, precisely, are you trying to say?” Kindan asked.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Raiden asked, eyes wide with innocence. “You’re a perfect sailor, Kin. Especially for your tender years.”
“I’m twenty-eight,” Kin retorted. “Hardly tender, especially when most of that has been spent with you.”
Raiden rolled his eyes. “Honestly, you’d think after all these years some of my mellowness would have taken hold of you.”
“If by ‘mellow’ you mean ‘lazy’ then most certainly not. One of us has to keep this business running.” He looked pointedly at the mounds of paperwork.
“Oh, shut up. Just for that I’ve decided that yes, we’re going to agree to whatever his Highness demands.”
Kindan groaned. “Is there anything I can do to convince you not to go through with this idiocy? Anything?”
Raiden smirked. “Run naked through the streets.”
“I hate you,” Kindan replied. “If anything goes wrong on this voyage, Shima, I am placing the blame entirely at your feet and taking myself off to another merchant the moment we’re back in Kundou. I mean it. Storms take it, are you seriously doing this simply because you’re taken with a pretty face?”
“It’s far more serious than a pretty face, Kin,” Raiden said, dropping his feet back to the floor and leaning forward earnestly. “Far more serious.”
“This seems like a strange way to go about a courtship,” Kin replied, eyeing him, obviously not believing a word Raiden was saying.
Raiden scoffed. “What could possibly be better than having him all to myself in the middle of the ocean for months on end? Never mind all the countries we’ll be visiting.”
“Oh, yes,” Kin said acidly. “Pozhar is so very romantic. Perhaps we can take in a sacrifice while we’re there. That’s sure to win a man’s heart.”
“They do what they feel they must,” Raiden said, turning suddenly serious.
Kin shook his head. “I will not condone such deaths and you know it. Let us move on to happier subjects, old friend, before you get my ire up.”
“Old friend, your ire is always up. One day I will manage the trick of calming it, and on that day I shall no doubt also bring the world to an end.” Raiden chuckled over the rim of his crystal glass, sipping at his brandy while Kin stared at him in disgust.
“Better to always be irate and getting work done that to be lazy and easily distracted by pretty faces.”
Raiden let out an inelegant snort. “Kin, I’m the one who first started taking you to – oh, what’s that phrase that’s become popular now. Ah, yes. I’m the one who first started taking you to the disreputable streets. Someone in this room has a taste for pretty faces and it’s not me.”
“Perhaps, but I’m not easily distracted by them,” Kin said, though his pale skin, already warmed by alcohol, flushed a shade darker. “Note that my ship can leave at a moment’s notice whereas your desk would take a good month to sort, never mind pack.”
“You claim not to be my secretary, Kin, yet you’ve already complained more than any secretary would – or a wife for that matter. Who is paying who here, exactly?” Raiden grinned as he spoke, obviously unaffected by anything Kin said to him.
Kin gave a long suffering sigh and leaned back against the bar that held the brandy and stacks of papers and ledgers that were further evidence of Raiden’s loathing for his paperwork. Crossing his arms over his chest, he gave another sigh and looked pleadingly at his friend and employer. “Raiden. Please. Nothing good will come of this trip.”
“Nonsense. If I have my way, plenty of good will come of this trip. Look on the positive side, Kin – it’s something new, something challenging. I often think our routine voyages bore you.”
“Not with the latest threat, never mind the usual ones and putting up with you, customs, your talent for obtaining things that aren’t covered by your permits…need I go on?”
“Do please.”
“Shima! Have you really thought about this? Best case scenario, this stupid prince wants to take a grand voyage to Pozhar. That’s a bare minimum of five months. If he suddenly decides to turn around? We’ve lost the better part of a year, and I sincerely doubt whatever they pay us will be enough to recover our losses. I’m a sailor, you’re the merchant, why am I having to point this out to you?”
Raiden shook his head, chuckling softly. “Because you seem to think I haven’t already taken it into consideration.” He motioned to the mess scattered around his office. “Just because I let the paperwork fall behind doesn’t mean I don’t know the numbers, my own business. You know that.”
“Maybe,” Kin said stiffly.
“We’ll be fine. Never mind all the money we're making so far this trip, the goods we’ll be selling at Pozhar will go a long way toward making up whatever we lose indulging a prince’s whim. Beyond that, we still don’t know what he’s offering us and we don’t even know what destination he has in mind.”
Kindan did not appear soothed. “Knowing royalty, and from what I’ve head of that one in particular, it could be anywhere – or nowhere. Who knows. I’m not certain I’m paid enough for this.”
“Perhaps we should ask the Kumiko if you’re paid enough.”
“I think she would agree that I’m paid sufficiently for carrying you around the world, not nearly enough for putting up with you.”
Raiden smirked. “Ah, but Kin, who but me could ever put up with you?” He winked, negating any possible sting in the words.
“I think, Shima, that you’d have more trouble finding a Captain than I would a new ship,” Kind retorted, but Raiden could see by the way he relaxed his stance that Kin was beginning to relax.
“Let us call a truce, eh?”
“Not until you give up this mad scheme of yours.” Kin pushed off the counter he’d been leaning against – nearly upsetting the stacks of paper in the process – and approached the desk, looming over Raiden with his hands on his hips. “I can’t see this going any way but badly, and I swear by the Dragons if I wind up murdering royalty I will expect you to go to the chopping block in my stead.”
Raiden snickered. “So first you tell me now, but now you say ‘if it goes wrong it’s your fault’? Which is it Kin?”
Kin kicked him in the shin. Hard. “Obviously you’re not going to listen to me. Do whatever you want. But when it all turns into a storm, I am leaving you alone to drown in it. Are we clear?”
“Oh, crystal.” Raiden folded his arms behind his head and leaned back in his seat. “So what’s the status downstairs?”
Grunting, Kin moved away to resume leaning against the counter. “The silk is gone, of course. Sold at your price. You’re such a thief.”
“Man of business, Kin, man of business.”
“Thief,” Kin asserted. “The Highland jewelry went quickly, and somewhere in that mess on your desk is probably their demands for your next pass. We could make what the prince will give us just from continuing to fleece everyone on jewelry.”
Raiden chuckled. “I’m not fleecing anyone. Highland silver is hard to obtain. Those damn animals are so greedy with the stuff.” He sat up and began to reluctantly shift through the mess on his desk, half-heartedly separating everything into various piles until he came upon a sheaf of papers with familiar handwriting – neatly written orders with a spending limit, as well as a list of things the various jewelers he dealt with would like to have but likely wouldn’t get – not at prices they could afford anyway. He read through the list again, memorizing it, then threw it back into the mess. “What about the perfume and oils?”
“Most of it’s sold. If you’d stop being lazy and wasting your money at auctions – how did you outbid a royal secretary, by the way? – and work your manipulative ways, we’d sell the rest. So far as purchasing goes,” Kin shrugged. “We picked up the foodstuffs you think will sell in Piedre, and sashes to sell in Pozhar. Which is another thing – why are you having such elaborate sashes premade?” Kin looked horrified – even his simple sashes were made to order. Not even the poorest peasants would buy sashes ready made. Nobles had their custom ordered, the poor bought fabric to make their own. Walking into a shop and picking out a sash already made wasn’t done. “What would a Firelander know about sashes? They think they’re pretty and fashionably amusing. They’ll more than make up for what we paid for them and what we had to pay out for the silver.”
“What you charge for the silver makes up for what we spend on it – at least it did until you wasted it on yet another necklace.”
Raiden rolled his eyes and stood. “So says the man who hoards a dagger worth three times what my necklace is worth.”
“That’s different.”
“Of course it ,” Raiden replied, making sure his voice was as patronizing and indulgent as he could possibly make it. He watched Kin seethe. Biting back a laugh, Raiden passed by Kin and stopped in front of a tall cabinet. Pulling a small key hung on a fine chain from beneath his robe, he unlocked the doors and swung them open, baring row after row of shelves and little drawers. At the moment, most of them were empty, as he very rarely had any reason to keep more than a few items in it at any time. Right now it held only a broach made from Highland silver and esmeralda – a simple piece, but splendid all the same – and a necklace made from dark, blood-red rubi, square cut and set in gold.
Against lightly tanned skin and sea-green hair, they would look shocking, amazing. Not quite as stunning as the black pearls and esmeralda choker, but they would look good. He wondered how mad Lord Noumi would get if he mentioned it.
Probably very, which was pleasing. He liked tempers. Teasing his secretary was, he sensed, going to be even more amusing than tormenting Kin.
“What are you snickering about?” Kin asked sourly.
“Nothing much.” Raiden pulled out the leather case holding his new necklace from his robes and slipped it onto a shelf, then locked the cabinet back. “Anticipating tomorrow.”
Kin made a face. “I knew I should have taken the Kumiko out and not listened to you.”
“I’m your boss,” Raiden said. It was only a technicality, really. They were more partners than anything else, these days. He bought, sold, and charmed, Kin kept everything else in top shape. “You have to listen to me.”
“Only because I haven’t figured out how to shut you up yet.”
Raiden heaved a dramatic sigh. “No one appreciates all my hard work.”
Kindan looked at his desk again, then leveraged himself away from the counter and moved toward the door. “Why don’t you come work hard and maybe I’ll appreciate it. We’ve some fresh fish coming in about an hour to look at the perfumes – and they may be willing to trade.”
“Excellent,” Raiden said, grinning at the thought of what they could coax from perfume makers. Kundouin scents always sold well in Verde – both countries had a propensity for lighter, more subtle scents and flavors. He smoothed the scarf over his hair and shook out his robes. “Show me to our fresh fish, then.”
“But of course, my Lord Merchant,” Kin said with perfect formality, ruining the effect completely by rolling his eyes as he yanked the door open and stalked out.
Laughing, Raiden followed, part of his mind moving into business mode, anticipating his potential clients, planning what he’d say – but most of his mind was on what he would be doing tomorrow.
For tomorrow would be a fine day indeed.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 01:56 pm (UTC)LOL. I'm amazed that Raiden hasn't been killed yet. Between Takara and Kin, he really likes to live dangerously.
Kin is cuuuuuu~te.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 03:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 07:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 10:56 pm (UTC)The rewrite is great - not that the original is bad, I started lurking here because I loved Treasure so much.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-05 01:49 am (UTC)“Do I look like your secretary?” Kindan asked icily.
*is on the floor laughing* Oh, Kin! *hearts* I love the partnership he has with Raiden. And I adored Raiden's little dig about the dagger. ;3
I also love all
hintsthe talk about the Highland jewelry and Verde wine and I really love how the sense of the whole world is just more cohesive this time 'round. Not to say that it wasn't the first time, but with BB, I realized how BIG this world is, and I like that in these chapters you seem to be incorporating all of the part of the world into the story right from the get-go. (You probably did it the first time too, but I'm noticing it more this go 'round for some reason. ^_^;;). *________*Also, I love Kindan's total resistance to the idea of taking Kyo and Takara anywhere. *snickers* XD
*twirls you about* You rock the world. *tackle glomps* ^____________________^
no subject
Date: 2006-08-05 04:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-09-25 07:31 pm (UTC)And Kin! It is good to get to know him a little more right at the beginning. Firm him in our mind as a main character who is important and has a past and secrets we don't yet know.
Awesome job!^_^