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Title: The Gun Still Rattles
Author: Kat
MADRONA
World: Capital
Main Characters: Louis Renoir
Borrow: No
Word Count: 855
Timeline: Backstory; before Louis assignment to Licentia as Lord Mwans' babysitter when he is still living in the capital with his wife.
Summary: God, Louis hates Sovereignty Days.
A/N: Originally posted at![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
madrona_project. Title is a a line from "Spirits" by The Strumbellas.
Written for both Sovereignty Days and the "War is a Mess" prompt on my Louis table.
Louis finished buttoning his jacket as he took a deep breath. His skin felt too tight and he wanted to crawl out of it. With another deep breath, he looked in the mirror. His dress uniform seemed to be in proper order. He'd even “remembered” to put his medals on this time. His wife liked to show them off and had “subtly” discussed her displeasure with him over the last time he'd “forgotten” them for days. So many thoughts floated though his mind as he ran his hand through what was left of his hair, after the fresh haircut he'd been subjected to. It hadn't been out of hand or anything, but it hadn't quite been what was considered the extra clean and trim image the Royal Guards were expected to be the model of this time of year either.
God, Louis hated Sovereignty Days.
His wife Annaleese breezed in just then from her dressing room where she'd been changing. She loved the games this time of year and had spent the day with one of her friends in the thick of the celebrations, shopping and playing what they could. Louis had begged off going with her again this year. She was probably disappointed, with that overly pleasant smile she wore all the time, it was hard to tell, but he hated the market place during festivals. Too many people, too much noise, and God only knew what smells would be around. He never knew how he was going to react. One year, the smell of a roasting lamb caught him by surprise and for the rest of the day, all he could do was remember finding what was left of that kid the cannonball had gone through. He'd barely made it to a secluded spot, before he'd thrown up what felt like everything he'd ever eaten in his life.
The whole thing always put him on edge. He'd hurt a couple people the first few years... after. Back then, he'd had enough clout to deal with things quietly. Now, his record couldn't take that kind of a hit. It was best to just stay clear of the whole thing.
He'd tried to explain it to Anna. It was hard. He didn't really know how to explain it and she... didn't understand.
At least she didn't want to go to the battle reenactments. Anna was against them on principle. Louis could still hear them when they went out though. It used to be he could just go to a bar and spend the day drinking himself stupid with people who'd been there too. No need to explain. No need to say anything, just knowing nods and an unending stream of nice, mind numbing spirits until the last play canon rang out its final shot. Ever since his “promotion” to fancy paper pusher, he was... less welcome.
That wasn't entirely true. Right after, he'd still been welcome, but the more time spent working in his office, the more removed he was from everyone else, until he was just another outsider.
Alcohol had never exactly been Louis’ friend anyway.
Instead, they went to celebrate with Anna's friends. They were an interesting crowd; church minded and always talking about more intellectual pursuits. There was usually dancing. There was always a conversation about the “evils of celebrating war,” while they were, of course, celebrating. There was never any alcohol, because it was a sin, of course. Late in the evening, someone would always notice Louis in his uniform, hiding in the corner, and always try to lecture him on the real horrors of war.
It was a special kind of hell really.
Not that it mattered where they went. Something would happen. Some overly eager younger soldier or some jackass kid old enough to know what the medals on Louis chest were for would want to know what it was like to be in a real war, expecting glamour and heroics. Louis, unfortunately, did not have glamour and heroics to tell them about. He had a temper and could remember how to do the voice he used training new soldiers just fine.
Annaleese touched his arm and smiled a little brighter than usual. “You look so handsome.”
Louis nodded, not in agreement, but for lack of a better response. He realized she was looking at him expectantly. “That dress is very nice on you.” He'd taken too long to say it, if her twitch of a frown was any indication. Louis looked at her for real this time. “Is that new?”
She brightened. “Yes.” Anna primped a bit. “It's not too extravagant is it?”
“No, of course not.” He didn't care. Louis tried to smile for her. He was always horrible at faking emotions.
Anna never seemed to notice though. “Are you ready to go? The carriage is out front.”
“Of course,” He offered her his arm like a dutiful husband should.
Louis recited how many ways he could maim a person with a sugar spoon in his head, just in case, as they made their way out the door into the world of Sovereignty Days celebrations.
Author: Kat
MADRONA
World: Capital
Main Characters: Louis Renoir
Borrow: No
Word Count: 855
Timeline: Backstory; before Louis assignment to Licentia as Lord Mwans' babysitter when he is still living in the capital with his wife.
Summary: God, Louis hates Sovereignty Days.
A/N: Originally posted at
madrona_project. Title is a a line from "Spirits" by The Strumbellas. Written for both Sovereignty Days and the "War is a Mess" prompt on my Louis table.
Louis finished buttoning his jacket as he took a deep breath. His skin felt too tight and he wanted to crawl out of it. With another deep breath, he looked in the mirror. His dress uniform seemed to be in proper order. He'd even “remembered” to put his medals on this time. His wife liked to show them off and had “subtly” discussed her displeasure with him over the last time he'd “forgotten” them for days. So many thoughts floated though his mind as he ran his hand through what was left of his hair, after the fresh haircut he'd been subjected to. It hadn't been out of hand or anything, but it hadn't quite been what was considered the extra clean and trim image the Royal Guards were expected to be the model of this time of year either.
God, Louis hated Sovereignty Days.
His wife Annaleese breezed in just then from her dressing room where she'd been changing. She loved the games this time of year and had spent the day with one of her friends in the thick of the celebrations, shopping and playing what they could. Louis had begged off going with her again this year. She was probably disappointed, with that overly pleasant smile she wore all the time, it was hard to tell, but he hated the market place during festivals. Too many people, too much noise, and God only knew what smells would be around. He never knew how he was going to react. One year, the smell of a roasting lamb caught him by surprise and for the rest of the day, all he could do was remember finding what was left of that kid the cannonball had gone through. He'd barely made it to a secluded spot, before he'd thrown up what felt like everything he'd ever eaten in his life.
The whole thing always put him on edge. He'd hurt a couple people the first few years... after. Back then, he'd had enough clout to deal with things quietly. Now, his record couldn't take that kind of a hit. It was best to just stay clear of the whole thing.
He'd tried to explain it to Anna. It was hard. He didn't really know how to explain it and she... didn't understand.
At least she didn't want to go to the battle reenactments. Anna was against them on principle. Louis could still hear them when they went out though. It used to be he could just go to a bar and spend the day drinking himself stupid with people who'd been there too. No need to explain. No need to say anything, just knowing nods and an unending stream of nice, mind numbing spirits until the last play canon rang out its final shot. Ever since his “promotion” to fancy paper pusher, he was... less welcome.
That wasn't entirely true. Right after, he'd still been welcome, but the more time spent working in his office, the more removed he was from everyone else, until he was just another outsider.
Alcohol had never exactly been Louis’ friend anyway.
Instead, they went to celebrate with Anna's friends. They were an interesting crowd; church minded and always talking about more intellectual pursuits. There was usually dancing. There was always a conversation about the “evils of celebrating war,” while they were, of course, celebrating. There was never any alcohol, because it was a sin, of course. Late in the evening, someone would always notice Louis in his uniform, hiding in the corner, and always try to lecture him on the real horrors of war.
It was a special kind of hell really.
Not that it mattered where they went. Something would happen. Some overly eager younger soldier or some jackass kid old enough to know what the medals on Louis chest were for would want to know what it was like to be in a real war, expecting glamour and heroics. Louis, unfortunately, did not have glamour and heroics to tell them about. He had a temper and could remember how to do the voice he used training new soldiers just fine.
Annaleese touched his arm and smiled a little brighter than usual. “You look so handsome.”
Louis nodded, not in agreement, but for lack of a better response. He realized she was looking at him expectantly. “That dress is very nice on you.” He'd taken too long to say it, if her twitch of a frown was any indication. Louis looked at her for real this time. “Is that new?”
She brightened. “Yes.” Anna primped a bit. “It's not too extravagant is it?”
“No, of course not.” He didn't care. Louis tried to smile for her. He was always horrible at faking emotions.
Anna never seemed to notice though. “Are you ready to go? The carriage is out front.”
“Of course,” He offered her his arm like a dutiful husband should.
Louis recited how many ways he could maim a person with a sugar spoon in his head, just in case, as they made their way out the door into the world of Sovereignty Days celebrations.
