n u m b e r o n e

             THIS BLOG IS AN ARCHIVE.  YOU CAN FIND UNA OVER                        ON @owedfavors. 

THE QUEEN  ::  dignified in your regality,  you are a beacon of reason...  the true power behind the throne,  you take heed of all,  cautious in each move you make.  some may call you callous in your calculation,  but they do not know your heart.

excuse her???

          ❛           I need your help... ❜    the words come without preamble as una leans upon the table upon which christine works,  elbows propping her weight.  they don’t stick in her throat nearly as much as she expects them to,  and perhaps it the repetitions of rehearsed cadence that have made the words come easily,  or perhaps it is the trust she holds in her friend.  it doesn’t mean she likes saying it,  of course,  nor even that she doesn’t glance over her shoulder for prying ears. 

          she doesn’t know if christine has yet heard,  if their destination has yet reached her ears.  even if it has,  she won’t know what it means.  that significance resides in una’s heart,  alone,  the name of home planet kept even from the two who know where she comes from,  who know what she is.    ❛ in two days,  we’re arriving someplace that I cannot go, ❜    — glance drifts once more over her shoulder,  but they are alone,  it is safe,  and una wishes that was enough to quiet her pounding heart.  —    ❛ and I am running out of excuses,  fast. ❜    

          in full honestly,  she has exhausted them:  efforts to downplay evidence that the trail they follow ought to lead them there fallen upon deaf ears;  arguments for why another ship ought to be dispatched to dorvien iv,  not enterprise,  rejected in light of the fact that there is no one else nearby to send;  suggestion that she be left behind to pursue one of their handful of other  ( far less promising )  leads brushed aside as ridiculous  ( why split up the team? ).    she has no further cards up her sleeve than to request leave,  and to do such a thing at such a time is sure to draw suspicion.  when was the last time she’d accepted,  much less asked for leave?

          usually,  the words would pull her attention.  usually,  she would glance up,  give him a look,  whether it be stern or dryly amused.  this time,  long moments pass before she offers any acknowledgment that she heard him,  attention so absorbed by the shifting colors and sliding pieces.  though delayed,  she does eventually raise a hand just enough to gesture him to wait.    locals called it a puzzle,  one they had yet to solve,  a remnant of the planet’s former inhabitants,  long gone.  

          for all her usual control,  una had not been able to keep her interest from writing itself across her features,  eyes suddenly bright.  he could not help but notice,  and had dismissed her from their actual responsibilities to investigate.  she’s scarcely gotten anywhere in the hours since,  and since he approached to check on her,  she has scarcely moved except to breathe.  now,  her voice sounds distant as she forms the words,    ❛ if you dare call anyone to help me... ❜    there’s no urgency,  no risk to taking her time.

          ❛ it’s not often a puzzle eludes me,  chris. ❜    she drops title to use his name,  speaking more to her friend than her captain.    ❛ I’m not ready to concede defeat... ❜    for the first time since he joins her,  she glances up at him,  stern,  focused expression giving way to a smile.    ❛ don’t spoil my fun? ❜    that smile proves no less fleeting than usual,  however,  as,  suddenly concerned,  she asks,    ❛ we don’t have to leave,  do we? ❜