[goes to grab waffles but instead it's memshare time because perma memshare fucks
You're walking through a market in this memory, heading towards the area where the livestock is kept. For you, it's not hard to notice that you're being followed - you've trained yourself to pick up on that kind of thing immediately. When you glance to see who it is, though, it seems just to be a normal citizen. Middle aged and slightly balding, with a simple stained smock. Poor. One of your people. You recognize him as harmless immediately, but your pulse still starts to quicken as you try to lose him. He speeds up in turn, though, which draws more attention from the other people in the market, who start to follow you as well. A small crowd forms.
You want to run. The instinct is so hard not to follow, but you know starting to flee is just going to make more people look your way. So you take a breath and turn to face the people gathering behind you. "Lady Heir," one of them says, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.
"Don't call me that." It's quiet, unsure, and they don't pay much mind. Another of the men at the front of the group speaks up. "Please. We need direction. We've cast off the Lord Ruler. What do we do now?" You can't help but take a step back. You understand why they're asking - the man who led them all to revolt, the man who trained you, is dead. Of course they're going to look towards his successor, the girl who toppled an empire at the climax of that revolution. But as much as they need guidance, so do you. You have no idea what you're doing, much less what to do about the armies outside the gates looking to take advantage of the sudden lack of leadership.
"I'm not Kelsier." You protest, but they don't seem put off by that. "We know. You're his heir - he passed on, and this time you survived." You want to say something else to make them stop looking at you like that, like you're some kind of a light in the dark. That isn't you. People paying even this much attention to you makes your skin crawl. But before you can say anything, a woman holding an infant steps forward.
"Please, Lady Heir. If the hand that struck down the Lord Ruler could touch my child..." You take another step back, trying to keep your breathing steady, but you bump into someone behind you and realize the crowd extends beyond your back. The woman steps closer, and you don't know what to do, so you just reach up quickly to touch the baby's forehead, uncertain. A boy behind you speaks up as he watches this. "You'll protect us, won't you, Lady Heir? The priests say that you'll stop that army out there, that the soldiers won't be able to enter the city while you're here."
The pounding of your heart is deafening. You can defeat one fighter easily. Five in a pinch. An entire army, though? You mutter something before you break away from the group, who are now talking excitedly amongst themselves about having met you, having heard you speak. Moving into an alleyway to make sure you're out of sight, you press your hand to your mouth and fight with yourself to try and breathe again. Once you're done, you wrap your arms around yourself and stay there for a while, not wanting to draw another crowd.]
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[heading to the counter, glancing back at him.]
Do you want one as well?
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[ going to sit down? so polite, vin. ]
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You're walking through a market in this memory, heading towards the area where the livestock is kept. For you, it's not hard to notice that you're being followed - you've trained yourself to pick up on that kind of thing immediately. When you glance to see who it is, though, it seems just to be a normal citizen. Middle aged and slightly balding, with a simple stained smock. Poor. One of your people. You recognize him as harmless immediately, but your pulse still starts to quicken as you try to lose him. He speeds up in turn, though, which draws more attention from the other people in the market, who start to follow you as well. A small crowd forms.
You want to run. The instinct is so hard not to follow, but you know starting to flee is just going to make more people look your way. So you take a breath and turn to face the people gathering behind you. "Lady Heir," one of them says, and you feel your breath catch in your throat.
"Don't call me that." It's quiet, unsure, and they don't pay much mind. Another of the men at the front of the group speaks up. "Please. We need direction. We've cast off the Lord Ruler. What do we do now?" You can't help but take a step back. You understand why they're asking - the man who led them all to revolt, the man who trained you, is dead. Of course they're going to look towards his successor, the girl who toppled an empire at the climax of that revolution. But as much as they need guidance, so do you. You have no idea what you're doing, much less what to do about the armies outside the gates looking to take advantage of the sudden lack of leadership.
"I'm not Kelsier." You protest, but they don't seem put off by that. "We know. You're his heir - he passed on, and this time you survived." You want to say something else to make them stop looking at you like that, like you're some kind of a light in the dark. That isn't you. People paying even this much attention to you makes your skin crawl. But before you can say anything, a woman holding an infant steps forward.
"Please, Lady Heir. If the hand that struck down the Lord Ruler could touch my child..." You take another step back, trying to keep your breathing steady, but you bump into someone behind you and realize the crowd extends beyond your back. The woman steps closer, and you don't know what to do, so you just reach up quickly to touch the baby's forehead, uncertain. A boy behind you speaks up as he watches this. "You'll protect us, won't you, Lady Heir? The priests say that you'll stop that army out there, that the soldiers won't be able to enter the city while you're here."
The pounding of your heart is deafening. You can defeat one fighter easily. Five in a pinch. An entire army, though? You mutter something before you break away from the group, who are now talking excitedly amongst themselves about having met you, having heard you speak. Moving into an alleyway to make sure you're out of sight, you press your hand to your mouth and fight with yourself to try and breathe again. Once you're done, you wrap your arms around yourself and stay there for a while, not wanting to draw another crowd.]
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