The Present (Vanilla, Chocolate, Kiwi-Strawberry)
'Verse: Sparksong
Challenges: Vanilla #24 (a gift), Chocolate #20 (caution), Kiwi-Strawberry #24 (off key)
Title: The Present
Summary: Briar needs advice concerning the female heart. So he talks to who now?
Wordcount: 1138
Rating: PG
Notes: I originally wrote this as another FotW, but got stuck and the challenge is now done. So now with a few tweaks, ta-da!
Briar found Takoda in the garden, half singing, half muttering to himself as he dug around in the dirt. A haphazard pile of plants, some still in their potters but most looking as if they had been yanked out of their clay homes and flung across the grass, was just beside him.
Even under his breath, Tak's singing was awful. He'd launch into a sea shanty or bar ode, get one or two verses in (not even reaching the chorus in any case; Briar was vaguely ashamed to know this) before dissolving into mutters and grumblings. About what, who knew. One thing was as likely as another, but considering the scene Briar rather thought it must be having to do the gardening, instead of pestering Conri or something equally fruitless as he always did.
Briar watched him for a few seconds longer, frowning. That idea had been crushed - he'd be no help. Not that he ever was but hey, by now he would almost be willing deal with Irene just to get some advice.
But not yet. He'd hit an all time low before he'd work up that kind of courage. The kind of courage it took to try to communicate with a seemingly patience-less woman, through gesture and writing no less, and one quite capable of beating him to a pulp without even trying.
It was hard being him.
He turned away, running through the list of candidates again.
Conri was out: he'd never had anything to do with matters of the heart - or even of the groin, Briar thought darkly - and he could just imagine the unamused stare he would get from tall-dark-and-longsuffering.
Côme had proved fruitless, shrugging helplessly at him when he signed out his request and whispering - Irene was near, and her ears where sharp - that he really had no clue how he had done it, either.
Tak wasn't going to give him a straight answer even if he wasn't doing whatever it was he was doing...
Zahra was always busy with planning and strategizing and schmoozing diplomats, he couldn't in good conscience go to her with his problems.
Well, maybe, he thought, what I need is a practical person, not necessarily one who knows a woman's heart.
For Julian had just arrived, riding in on a horse laden with supplies for the week ahead. He was already at the ramshackle lean-to where the horses were kept - no one bothered calling it a stable, since that was a disservice to stables everywhere - by the time Briar caught up to him. "Hey, help?" was all Julian had to say before Briar was helping haul sacks of grain and produce into the house. When everything was inside, if merely piled inside the front door and not put away, Julian went to take care of the horse. Briar followed, leaning carefully against the wooden support as he enjoyed the sunshine. For many minutes he was lost in the lovely day while the older man shuffled around with tools and tack and water buckets.
"Summat wrong, love?"
Briar started and glanced over. Julian had turned back to his work, checking the mare's shoes, but after a moment he put the hoof down gently and fixed Briar with a raised eyebrow and no-nonsense look.
"Come on, like I don't know when you're not just wanting my company. Excellent as it is," he continued. "Need advice on summat? I can guess if you'd like, but that'd probably be embarrassing for the both of us. Though I do have a good idea already..." He scratched his stubble.
Briar made a face. Just like Julian to know. Ah, well, it might be better not to have to convey as much information.
He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, as was his nervous habit, thinking how best to translate his thoughts into gesture - gesture that could be translated back to words, no less. After a moment, the only thing he could think to do was press each fist just above an ear, mimicking the two large buns typically worn by...
"Meivu," Julian deadpanned, looking about as unsurprised as one could get. "Okay, that narrows it down quite a bit. Or would, if I didn't know that's just about all you think about these days." He shook his head in disbelief. "I'll never get it, you know. Anyway, what's going on with the little lady?"
Briar hesitated just a second before reaching into his pocket with trembling hands and digging out the gift.
Julian took it, running calloused but gentle fingers over the silver chain and, further on, the delicate pendant: an empty hourglass, in total about the size of Briar's thumbnail. He hummed his appreciation lowly when he spotted the runes on the top and bottom of the ivory frame. "Forever-I-love," Julian read from the swirling old-style marks.
Briar knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was nonetheless. Julian must have heard the sharp breath in, because he glanced up and smiled. "Yeah. Just between us, hey? Don't want everyone clamoring for a piece of Jules."
He nodded easily, thinking about how hard it would be to tell anyone even if he wanted to.
"Thanks, love. Now, my guess is you're thinking of giving this pretty thing to - what does my sister call her - Shortstuff? For what passes as her nameday?"
Meivu, as a river-daughter spirit, believed she was never-beginning as well as never-ending, and thus flatly refused any attempts at wrestling even the date she 'assumed this form' (as she put it) from her. So for lack of an official nameday, the group picked one by vote. The spring equinox seemed appropriate enough: halfway between the shortest day and the longest, between the sweet summer midnight sun and the snowed-in misery of winter in the south. Perfect for her, though Meivu had been utterly disgusted by the whole affair, of course.
At Briar's nod, Julian hmm-ed again. "Well, that's in... what, a week? My but time has gone fast. I'd say if you feel ready, go ahead. I doubt she'd know the significance of the runes, even if she did spot them. So you can tell her whatever you want about them. Or keep a mystery. I think giving this will make the rest of us look bad, though! It's beautiful. If she doesn't at least like it she's not all there, love." And he smiled gently to take any offense out of his words. "No pressure though."
He took back the pendant. Holding it up to the light, he tried in vain to stop his hand from shaking. He didn't even know why - the big moment wasn't for six days, so what was he doing getting nervous so early?
Julian smiled again. "No pressure from me, love."
Challenges: Vanilla #24 (a gift), Chocolate #20 (caution), Kiwi-Strawberry #24 (off key)
Title: The Present
Summary: Briar needs advice concerning the female heart. So he talks to who now?
Wordcount: 1138
Rating: PG
Notes: I originally wrote this as another FotW, but got stuck and the challenge is now done. So now with a few tweaks, ta-da!
Briar found Takoda in the garden, half singing, half muttering to himself as he dug around in the dirt. A haphazard pile of plants, some still in their potters but most looking as if they had been yanked out of their clay homes and flung across the grass, was just beside him.
Even under his breath, Tak's singing was awful. He'd launch into a sea shanty or bar ode, get one or two verses in (not even reaching the chorus in any case; Briar was vaguely ashamed to know this) before dissolving into mutters and grumblings. About what, who knew. One thing was as likely as another, but considering the scene Briar rather thought it must be having to do the gardening, instead of pestering Conri or something equally fruitless as he always did.
Briar watched him for a few seconds longer, frowning. That idea had been crushed - he'd be no help. Not that he ever was but hey, by now he would almost be willing deal with Irene just to get some advice.
But not yet. He'd hit an all time low before he'd work up that kind of courage. The kind of courage it took to try to communicate with a seemingly patience-less woman, through gesture and writing no less, and one quite capable of beating him to a pulp without even trying.
It was hard being him.
He turned away, running through the list of candidates again.
Conri was out: he'd never had anything to do with matters of the heart - or even of the groin, Briar thought darkly - and he could just imagine the unamused stare he would get from tall-dark-and-longsuffering.
Côme had proved fruitless, shrugging helplessly at him when he signed out his request and whispering - Irene was near, and her ears where sharp - that he really had no clue how he had done it, either.
Tak wasn't going to give him a straight answer even if he wasn't doing whatever it was he was doing...
Zahra was always busy with planning and strategizing and schmoozing diplomats, he couldn't in good conscience go to her with his problems.
Well, maybe, he thought, what I need is a practical person, not necessarily one who knows a woman's heart.
For Julian had just arrived, riding in on a horse laden with supplies for the week ahead. He was already at the ramshackle lean-to where the horses were kept - no one bothered calling it a stable, since that was a disservice to stables everywhere - by the time Briar caught up to him. "Hey, help?" was all Julian had to say before Briar was helping haul sacks of grain and produce into the house. When everything was inside, if merely piled inside the front door and not put away, Julian went to take care of the horse. Briar followed, leaning carefully against the wooden support as he enjoyed the sunshine. For many minutes he was lost in the lovely day while the older man shuffled around with tools and tack and water buckets.
"Summat wrong, love?"
Briar started and glanced over. Julian had turned back to his work, checking the mare's shoes, but after a moment he put the hoof down gently and fixed Briar with a raised eyebrow and no-nonsense look.
"Come on, like I don't know when you're not just wanting my company. Excellent as it is," he continued. "Need advice on summat? I can guess if you'd like, but that'd probably be embarrassing for the both of us. Though I do have a good idea already..." He scratched his stubble.
Briar made a face. Just like Julian to know. Ah, well, it might be better not to have to convey as much information.
He sucked his lower lip between his teeth, as was his nervous habit, thinking how best to translate his thoughts into gesture - gesture that could be translated back to words, no less. After a moment, the only thing he could think to do was press each fist just above an ear, mimicking the two large buns typically worn by...
"Meivu," Julian deadpanned, looking about as unsurprised as one could get. "Okay, that narrows it down quite a bit. Or would, if I didn't know that's just about all you think about these days." He shook his head in disbelief. "I'll never get it, you know. Anyway, what's going on with the little lady?"
Briar hesitated just a second before reaching into his pocket with trembling hands and digging out the gift.
Julian took it, running calloused but gentle fingers over the silver chain and, further on, the delicate pendant: an empty hourglass, in total about the size of Briar's thumbnail. He hummed his appreciation lowly when he spotted the runes on the top and bottom of the ivory frame. "Forever-I-love," Julian read from the swirling old-style marks.
Briar knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but he was nonetheless. Julian must have heard the sharp breath in, because he glanced up and smiled. "Yeah. Just between us, hey? Don't want everyone clamoring for a piece of Jules."
He nodded easily, thinking about how hard it would be to tell anyone even if he wanted to.
"Thanks, love. Now, my guess is you're thinking of giving this pretty thing to - what does my sister call her - Shortstuff? For what passes as her nameday?"
Meivu, as a river-daughter spirit, believed she was never-beginning as well as never-ending, and thus flatly refused any attempts at wrestling even the date she 'assumed this form' (as she put it) from her. So for lack of an official nameday, the group picked one by vote. The spring equinox seemed appropriate enough: halfway between the shortest day and the longest, between the sweet summer midnight sun and the snowed-in misery of winter in the south. Perfect for her, though Meivu had been utterly disgusted by the whole affair, of course.
At Briar's nod, Julian hmm-ed again. "Well, that's in... what, a week? My but time has gone fast. I'd say if you feel ready, go ahead. I doubt she'd know the significance of the runes, even if she did spot them. So you can tell her whatever you want about them. Or keep a mystery. I think giving this will make the rest of us look bad, though! It's beautiful. If she doesn't at least like it she's not all there, love." And he smiled gently to take any offense out of his words. "No pressure though."
He took back the pendant. Holding it up to the light, he tried in vain to stop his hand from shaking. He didn't even know why - the big moment wasn't for six days, so what was he doing getting nervous so early?
Julian smiled again. "No pressure from me, love."