Peanut Butter Week : Water
Peanut Butter #2. Water and Soft Serve 15/50 : Chocolate #1. Trust
with Cookie Crumbs, Gummies, and Malt
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Word Count : 1378
Malt Prompt : summer 2011 (#317) just like we rehearsed
Gummy Prompt : 500themes #106. That's all I ask of you.
Cookie Crumbs : Happily Ever After and assorted other pieces
Wedding montage theme and rampant spoilers continue.
1270
“I place my trust in you.” Ski’s voice sounds hollow and distant to her own ears.
A hundred random thoughts seek to distract her from her mission. The hall is painfully bright and far too hot, and row upon row of eyes are trained on her with such intensity she finds herself wondering if the whole crowd is holding its breath, and her dress with all its hundreds of ribbons is making her itch, and the whole thing seems some horrid dream.
She’s staring at the cup that’s being held out to her, a golden goblet laced with jewels and etchings, and the memory strikes her of Wyatt pressing a dented tankard into Tristan’s palm, and it’s hard to keep standing, much less continue speaking.
The hand bound to hers tightens around her wrist, a silent reminder that they’re in this together and that she’s not the only one fighting these wayward thoughts, and so she blinks back the tears that are threatening to spill. “Let us carry one another,” she declares, with as much force as she can muster. “That together we may reach the greatest heights.”
1250
Kairn gives the set of forms scrawled on the ground a dubious look. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”
Sethan quirks a brow. “Why would it hurt?”
“I-I don’t know,” says Kairn, dragging the toe of his boot through the dust outside the circles. “I just figure it’s always better to ask than to not.”
Reida rolls her eyes. “Just get in the ring.”
1254
“No, no, no.” Farran grabs Rune by the elbow and starts pulling him around.
Rune shoots her a nervous look over his shoulder before quickly reminding himself he’s got a sword in his hand and going rigid again.
“You’re not dancing with her, dear,” says Farran. “You’re trying to beat the crap out of her.”
“I am not beating the crap out of Ilya.”
Sword loosely swinging from her hand, Ilya is looking bored.
“Trying,” says Farran, with a pat to his arm. “Trying is the operative word.”
Ilya gives him a look that’s far too sweet to be paired with the weapon she’s twirling about. “Would you rather train with Ski instead?”
1258
“Are you all right?” says Ski.
Ilya’s already off chatting with Tess and Farran as if she’d never left, while Dalton lingers by the door, doing his best to keep a straight face. Ski cocks her head to catch his eye and he shrugs.
“You can ask me a hundred times if I intend to go through with it, and a hundred times I will say yes,” he says. “That does not mean it pleases me.”
She’s searching for something placating to say when Rune walks up and comments, “I can’t remember the last time I saw Ilya so happy.”
Dalton shoots him a venomous glare.
“Did I say something wrong?” he says, backing up a pace. “Are you all right?”
“I would appreciate it if everyone would stop asking.”
1260
“How are you?” says Ski, settling onto the couch beside the woman. It’s the first she’s seen her without her brother hovering over her since they arrived.
Shasa meets her with a timid smile. “Still a bit in shock,” she says, running a hand slowly over her swollen belly. “I mean, we’ve been running for so long and now we’re safe. You’ll protect him.”
“We will do our best.”
“You are a chosen, like his father,” says Shasa, and it seems this pleases her. “You and your sister. And the tall one.”
“Yes,” Ski says slowly, uncertain what else to say.
“Then we are in the hands of the gods.”
1263
“It’s not hard,” says Lyssa. She’s perched on the rim of the tub, watching Sham playing on the floor and Kairn peering into the mirror and dragging a razor across his chin. “You’re on the road with your wife and son, headed to meet family in Burnam.”
He pauses to rinse the blade and shoot her a look. “And why are we going there?”
“I don’t know. Your father has a job for you.” He’s still looking at her expectantly as he goes back to shaving, so she adds, “He’s a merchant.”
It seems that’s still not satisfactory. Lyssa rolls her eyes. “Rugs, how’s that? He sells rugs. Look, no one’s going to be grilling you about it. Trust me. Just act like we belong together and we should be fine. They’re looking for a scruffy fellow on the run with a boy, not a family. Sham can handle it, right Sham?”
The toddler looks up from his game of making building blocks out of their supplies and nods. He points at Lyssa with an all too devious grin for such a small child and declares, “Mommy.”
Kairn shakes his head at the boy and runs a hand over his own bare chin. “Well, I’m hardly scruffy anymore,” he says, hopefully.
“Took years off with that beard,” says Lyssa.
He looks in the mirror again and sighs. “No kidding. I look like I’m twelve.”
1267
“This is a complete waste of time,” says Sethan, barely glancing up from the sigil laced sheets strewn about his desk.
Tristan has to admit this was the reaction he expected, but he’s not about to back down now. “These friends of yours are slaughtering whole villages.”
“And?” With barely a shrug, he continues scrawling lines across his current page.
“And I’m not going to stand by and let that happen.” The inkwell winks out of existence as Sethan reaches to dip his pen, only to reappear at the far corner of the desk. “And neither are you.”
“I have more important things to do than go play hero,” says Sethan, turning to glare at him as he snatches up the ink. “And so do you.”
1269
Standing across the mammoth desk while the headmistress slowly tents her fingers and purses her lips, Ski feels as if she’s a girl in school again. She shifts from foot to foot as Kinari considers her words.
“Some battles,” she says, “are not worth fighting. You of all people should know this.”
Kinari’s words are like ice down her spine and all thoughts likening herself to a child in the woman’s presence are dispelled. “Do not make light of what happened at Kalas in my presence.”
“My apologies,” says Kinari, though she doesn’t sound the least bit contrite. “That was wrong of me.” There’s a long pause in which Ski glowers and Kinari searches again for words. “Look, my dear,” she says at last, “what I am trying to say is that it pains me to watch you carry on the same useless struggle in the council chambers day after day.”
“I appreciate your concern, but-”
“I have an opening in my staff.” It’s thrown out offhandedly, as if it’s only now occurred to her that this is an option, but Ski knows better.
“You want me to teach,” she says slowly.
“It would mean reinstatement of your knighthood, perhaps even a seat on the knights’ council.” She leans in with a conspiratorial grin to add, “One you won’t have to fight for.”
Ski finds herself with a slew of questions, eager to believe the offer is as good as it sounds, but she stops herself. “I… will have to think about it.”
1270's
“She’s started… talking to me,” Rune says one night. And he knows, before the words have even left his mouth, that Reida is probably not the person to whom he should confide such a thing, but if he doesn’t say something he’s afraid he’ll go mad.
He’s not sure how he’s expecting her to react, but when she simply cocks a brow and says, conversationally, “So, what’s she say?” he can’t help but feel relieved.
1277
Sham catches Mara by the shoulder and spins her around. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, out of breath.
“That way,” she says, with a firm gesture behind her.
“You’re marching us straight into enemy territory.”
“That’s all right,” she says, without the least bit of hesitation. “I have a few tricks for dealing with demons. I picked them up from my mother.”
“Mara…”
“Just trust me?”
“I’d like to,” he says, letting go of her, “but I know your mother. And her tricks.”
with Cookie Crumbs, Gummies, and Malt
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Word Count : 1378
Malt Prompt : summer 2011 (#317) just like we rehearsed
Gummy Prompt : 500themes #106. That's all I ask of you.
Cookie Crumbs : Happily Ever After and assorted other pieces
Wedding montage theme and rampant spoilers continue.
1270
“I place my trust in you.” Ski’s voice sounds hollow and distant to her own ears.
A hundred random thoughts seek to distract her from her mission. The hall is painfully bright and far too hot, and row upon row of eyes are trained on her with such intensity she finds herself wondering if the whole crowd is holding its breath, and her dress with all its hundreds of ribbons is making her itch, and the whole thing seems some horrid dream.
She’s staring at the cup that’s being held out to her, a golden goblet laced with jewels and etchings, and the memory strikes her of Wyatt pressing a dented tankard into Tristan’s palm, and it’s hard to keep standing, much less continue speaking.
The hand bound to hers tightens around her wrist, a silent reminder that they’re in this together and that she’s not the only one fighting these wayward thoughts, and so she blinks back the tears that are threatening to spill. “Let us carry one another,” she declares, with as much force as she can muster. “That together we may reach the greatest heights.”
1250
Kairn gives the set of forms scrawled on the ground a dubious look. “It’s not going to hurt, is it?”
Sethan quirks a brow. “Why would it hurt?”
“I-I don’t know,” says Kairn, dragging the toe of his boot through the dust outside the circles. “I just figure it’s always better to ask than to not.”
Reida rolls her eyes. “Just get in the ring.”
1254
“No, no, no.” Farran grabs Rune by the elbow and starts pulling him around.
Rune shoots her a nervous look over his shoulder before quickly reminding himself he’s got a sword in his hand and going rigid again.
“You’re not dancing with her, dear,” says Farran. “You’re trying to beat the crap out of her.”
“I am not beating the crap out of Ilya.”
Sword loosely swinging from her hand, Ilya is looking bored.
“Trying,” says Farran, with a pat to his arm. “Trying is the operative word.”
Ilya gives him a look that’s far too sweet to be paired with the weapon she’s twirling about. “Would you rather train with Ski instead?”
1258
“Are you all right?” says Ski.
Ilya’s already off chatting with Tess and Farran as if she’d never left, while Dalton lingers by the door, doing his best to keep a straight face. Ski cocks her head to catch his eye and he shrugs.
“You can ask me a hundred times if I intend to go through with it, and a hundred times I will say yes,” he says. “That does not mean it pleases me.”
She’s searching for something placating to say when Rune walks up and comments, “I can’t remember the last time I saw Ilya so happy.”
Dalton shoots him a venomous glare.
“Did I say something wrong?” he says, backing up a pace. “Are you all right?”
“I would appreciate it if everyone would stop asking.”
1260
“How are you?” says Ski, settling onto the couch beside the woman. It’s the first she’s seen her without her brother hovering over her since they arrived.
Shasa meets her with a timid smile. “Still a bit in shock,” she says, running a hand slowly over her swollen belly. “I mean, we’ve been running for so long and now we’re safe. You’ll protect him.”
“We will do our best.”
“You are a chosen, like his father,” says Shasa, and it seems this pleases her. “You and your sister. And the tall one.”
“Yes,” Ski says slowly, uncertain what else to say.
“Then we are in the hands of the gods.”
1263
“It’s not hard,” says Lyssa. She’s perched on the rim of the tub, watching Sham playing on the floor and Kairn peering into the mirror and dragging a razor across his chin. “You’re on the road with your wife and son, headed to meet family in Burnam.”
He pauses to rinse the blade and shoot her a look. “And why are we going there?”
“I don’t know. Your father has a job for you.” He’s still looking at her expectantly as he goes back to shaving, so she adds, “He’s a merchant.”
It seems that’s still not satisfactory. Lyssa rolls her eyes. “Rugs, how’s that? He sells rugs. Look, no one’s going to be grilling you about it. Trust me. Just act like we belong together and we should be fine. They’re looking for a scruffy fellow on the run with a boy, not a family. Sham can handle it, right Sham?”
The toddler looks up from his game of making building blocks out of their supplies and nods. He points at Lyssa with an all too devious grin for such a small child and declares, “Mommy.”
Kairn shakes his head at the boy and runs a hand over his own bare chin. “Well, I’m hardly scruffy anymore,” he says, hopefully.
“Took years off with that beard,” says Lyssa.
He looks in the mirror again and sighs. “No kidding. I look like I’m twelve.”
1267
“This is a complete waste of time,” says Sethan, barely glancing up from the sigil laced sheets strewn about his desk.
Tristan has to admit this was the reaction he expected, but he’s not about to back down now. “These friends of yours are slaughtering whole villages.”
“And?” With barely a shrug, he continues scrawling lines across his current page.
“And I’m not going to stand by and let that happen.” The inkwell winks out of existence as Sethan reaches to dip his pen, only to reappear at the far corner of the desk. “And neither are you.”
“I have more important things to do than go play hero,” says Sethan, turning to glare at him as he snatches up the ink. “And so do you.”
1269
Standing across the mammoth desk while the headmistress slowly tents her fingers and purses her lips, Ski feels as if she’s a girl in school again. She shifts from foot to foot as Kinari considers her words.
“Some battles,” she says, “are not worth fighting. You of all people should know this.”
Kinari’s words are like ice down her spine and all thoughts likening herself to a child in the woman’s presence are dispelled. “Do not make light of what happened at Kalas in my presence.”
“My apologies,” says Kinari, though she doesn’t sound the least bit contrite. “That was wrong of me.” There’s a long pause in which Ski glowers and Kinari searches again for words. “Look, my dear,” she says at last, “what I am trying to say is that it pains me to watch you carry on the same useless struggle in the council chambers day after day.”
“I appreciate your concern, but-”
“I have an opening in my staff.” It’s thrown out offhandedly, as if it’s only now occurred to her that this is an option, but Ski knows better.
“You want me to teach,” she says slowly.
“It would mean reinstatement of your knighthood, perhaps even a seat on the knights’ council.” She leans in with a conspiratorial grin to add, “One you won’t have to fight for.”
Ski finds herself with a slew of questions, eager to believe the offer is as good as it sounds, but she stops herself. “I… will have to think about it.”
1270's
“She’s started… talking to me,” Rune says one night. And he knows, before the words have even left his mouth, that Reida is probably not the person to whom he should confide such a thing, but if he doesn’t say something he’s afraid he’ll go mad.
He’s not sure how he’s expecting her to react, but when she simply cocks a brow and says, conversationally, “So, what’s she say?” he can’t help but feel relieved.
1277
Sham catches Mara by the shoulder and spins her around. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks, out of breath.
“That way,” she says, with a firm gesture behind her.
“You’re marching us straight into enemy territory.”
“That’s all right,” she says, without the least bit of hesitation. “I have a few tricks for dealing with demons. I picked them up from my mother.”
“Mara…”
“Just trust me?”
“I’d like to,” he says, letting go of her, “but I know your mother. And her tricks.”