Scribbles and Drabbles

Notebook Drabbles 59 - Orion and Riven 1

"Orion," Lord Riven said, silently in the room as the Chief Commander of the city-ship and High Priest of the Everlight turned to ask a simple dock worker a question in the middle of a crisis meeting. Orion straightened under the weight of his eyes. This was not good. For someone of Lord Riven to notice someone as low on the hierarchy as a dock grunt promised humiliation and potential pain. "What do you think about this plan to deal with the rebels?"

A few choice curse words rolled around Orion's tongue. Hopefully, Riven wanted to point out how dumb of an idea it was that even a dock grunt could tell it was stupid. The glint in Riven's eyes warned him not to play the ill-informed bottom feeder he appeared to be. 

"Sir?" Orion tried regardless.

The eyes turned hard, Riven's lips narrowing as Orion pretended to be ignorant here. "You have worked down here long enough. How do you think your colleagues will react to such restrictions?" His fingers tapped against a rail, and Riven clicked his tongue. The eyes weighed on Orion's skin, but the intensity of Riven's gaze threatened to drag him to the heavens and gut him. Bloodlust shimmered there, and RIven's infamous temper lurked, waiting for Orion to go too far. 

There was no point pretending not to understand how things worked. Riven wouldn't leave him with any dignity if he did. "It's a little rash," Orion said, forcing his eyes from Riven to the graffiti that started the crisis meeting in the first place. 

"Rash," snorted Raymond; the Dock Overseer didn't miss a chance to disregard Orion. "My Lord, this worker,"

"Is the one I am speaking to," Riven said, "Continue, Orion."

"Tensions are high, and the Docks are the lowest rung on the ship. No one has had a break in a long time, and it's unsurprising that people are looking for an escape. The coup was not that long ago and people suffer whether they were loyal to you or not. People want a day off to recover from everything," Orion kept his posture upright and his voice even. Since the coup, they'd not had a single day without work. The rebels were less likely to try to take over the ship and more likely to try to sabotage it to force a day of rest. 

"I have to agree," Miles, the head Spymaster, said, eyes studying Orion. A chill went down his back. Miles was his. Had been his, Orion didn't know if he'd turned coat or if Riven converted him to his side. "Arresting people for something like this may add fire to the tensions. It might be wiser to take a different path while things are calmer. "

"I'm open to alternatives."

A few of the higher-ups, including Miles, gave ideas. Raymond's eyes tried to set him alight through glare alone. There were a few different approaches, varying in tone and force. Orion attempted to step out of the limelight and hide behind the scuttle. Riven tapped his foot twice, and Miles grabbed Orion and put him back in place.

"You have not been dismissed," Miles said. 

"Yes, sir." 

Miles tilted his head as if hearing something, and a shiver went over his shoulders. Miles smiled and turned him back to be in the circle of people. 

"Orion, what do you think?"

Orion pleaded with Riven silently, but the man waited patiently. "Compromising is another opinion. Deal with the problem rather than the symptoms. The easiest way to give everyone a holiday would be to put in a rota system to give everyone a day or two off but shifting so the rebuild isn't compromised."

It wasn't a new idea. Plenty of the manual labourers grumbled about wanting a similar idea, but who was going to listen to the lowest rungs? Working nonstop had worn the entire city down. 

"Vesper?" Riven turned to his logistics man. Vesper had also been on Orion's council. Unlike Miles, Vesper had been his to the end. He lived because he was too valuable to kill. He lived because Riven burned the rebellion out of Vasper, publically and televised. How much of Vesper was left? Orion hoped more than Vesper showed.