Another piece which comes from the POV challenge on the Endless Shadows board. This is the scene from chapter six of Sign of the Unicorn, when Corwin calls a conference of his brothers and sisters- but this time, we get Fiona's POV.

Disclaimer: Amber, SoU, and all the characters belong to Roger Zelazny. I'm just borrowing them for fun (not profit).

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I am not one who concerns herself with others' lives, unless they directly effect my plans. Don't mistake me. Live and let live, and all that. I don't really care what you do. Just don't get in my way. I must keep my plans in order. I have an agenda, and I must keep to it. It's a matter of control. Much chaos (so to speak) has entered into those plans, but I can retrieve the scattered pieces, and set them in place again. I must.

Ah, family.

As I pretend to listen to Flora, I survey the room subtly , studying my brothers and sisters. I smile as I feel Corwin's gaze upon me. I wonder how much he knows. Little, I expect. He wonders where I will ally myself.

Nowhere, no one. I have nowhere to go. No one to turn to, even if I'd wanted that. Bleys is hiding. Julian is the last remaining brother who fancies he knows. I turn my mental gaze to Julian, and laugh interiorly. He also has no one. And he has no power over me. It would be his word against mine.

And Corwin hates Julian.

I do not hate. It's a waste of energy. I cannot take anyone seriously enough to bother with hate. But Corwin hates. That works to our advantage. Corwin's hate of Eric is what caused him to turn to Bleys. What a stroke of fortune that appeared to be. If he had to return, at least we could control him. He's usually such an easy read-- all those passions, so easily manipulated.

He surprised both of us in the end, tossing his cards to Bleys. Another passing passion, perhaps. An error in judgement, which he regrets.

Family.

Already they are quietly forming their little alliances. Already drawing their lines, in the usual ignorant and childish fashion. Dierdre has come in on Corwin's trump, making her position known (as if anyone thought it would be different). Random has obviously thrown in with Corwin. He's taken Dierdre's hand, and is leading her to the sideboard. Camp One.

This is amusing. Benedict comes in on Gerard's trump. Gerard has made his feelings and suspicions about Corwin quite clear. Benedict's choices carry some weight with the family. It does not surprise me to see Julian go over to Benedict. Yes, Brother Benedict will be the focal point of Camp 2. Lewella goes and joins them. Again, I am not surprised. Benedict avoids conflict, and Corwin creates it. Lewella does not like Benedict particularly, but she prefers to avoid conflict.

I suppress a smile. Flora and I are the subject of many half hidden looks. Control. It's now, as always, a matter of control. Flora is terrible in keeping any sort of control, thus others control her. I had led her to the point she believed I'd join her over in Camp One. She mentions she needs wine, and starts towards the sideboard.

Again, interior laughter. I do not follow. She hesitates, then looks nervously to Corwin, smiles, and joins him. How on earth did our sire produce that child? Even Gerard has more brains.

All eyes are looking anywhere but at me, and at the same time all are looking at me. Wait-- Corwin is direct. He simply gazes, a small smile on his face.

He always appreciates art.

The smile, though, means he reads me. Or he fancies he does. That will not do. I move to the mirror, which lies almost exactly between the camps, and adjust a strand of hair. Now gazes are more obvious. I let my bracelet "carelessly" fall. Interior laugh again, as I see the smile drop off Corwin's face. Julian, the vulture, smoothly retrieves the bracelet.

Julian, who opposed us. Would he think-- would he assume, that with Bleys and Brand gone, I may throw in with him against Corwin? Oh, the delight in fostering that notion. I allow him to place the bracelet back on my wrist. He folds his hand over mine. "I believe you would be amused by a witticism we are about to share," he begins.

Its' a matter of control.

"Thank you, Julian," I said. "I am certain that when I hear it I will laugh. Last, as usual, I fear." His eyes do not reveal his acknowledgement of the threat, but I was sure he'd heard. "I find that I feel a greater desire for a glass of wine."

Corwin has materialized on the other side of me, and I take his hand. His small smile returns, but now there is a hint of unrealized gratitude behind it.

Its' a matter of control.