(no subject)
Title: how far the story goes
Fandom: Tortall Universe
Characters/Pairings: Kel, OCs
Rating/Warnings: G, futurefic
Written for: dropsofviolet at the drabble prompt post. (Still open, because why not.)
Wordcount: ~450
A/N: I'm going to be posting these up here properly day by day, because I am obsessed with organization. Carry on in peace.
It's been lingering at the edge of conversations for days: the First Company of the King's Own stopping by your village. It's only for a few hours, everyone makes sure to mention, only for a brief rest and perhaps to resupply some - which is excellent, of course, everyone could use the extra coin - but still, the King's Own will be here, on the same streets where you squabble and barter and the children play hopping games in the dirt.
You are almost old enough to admit you're excited, but not quite, so you and Lissa settle on stools outside your house and bend over your sewing as if you haven't a care in the world. You even manage to keep up the pretense until you can see the banner snapping above rooftops.
Everything about the Own gleams, you find: leather and mail, silver trim and shining smiles, the massive bulk of the horses, even the cropped white hair of their commander.
Next to you, Lissa isn't even pretending not to stare. You elbow her, and she blushes; you both giggle and go back to staring.
"I can't tell if she's as tall as everyone says or if it's just the horse," Lissa murmurs, craning her neck.
"No, I think she's tall. Strong-looking anyone." You fiddle with your thread. "I met her once."
Lissa snorts. "Liar."
"No, really, I did," you say, tugging at her elbow until she looks at you. "It was when Mama worked in the palace."
Her eyes go wide. "Oh, riiight. But how?"
You blush; if it was anyone but Lissa, you wouldn't tell, but... "I got lost."
"Really?"
"Yes. I got lost and almost wandered into a banquet, and one of the other nobles yelled at me - I don't know who. She told him off and got me back to Mama." Embarrassment makes you add, "I was only five," but she doesn't like she's about to tease.
"What was she like?" she asks.
You shrug. The truth is a little too ridiculous: young as you were, the lady knight might as well have been a goddess, kind-eyed and enormous in gleaming red silk. She fed you a bit of chicken, you recall, and she didn't seem at all upset when you clung dirty-handed to her skirts. "Very kind," is all you say, "and not like a noble being kind to a servant. Just... kind."
Lissa whistles, looking back at the Knight Commander as she speaks with the mayor. It's loud, probably louder than she meant it to be, and Lady Keladry looks over. Lissa claps her hands over her mouth, but the Lady Knight simply waves one leather-gloved hand and smiles.
Fandom: Tortall Universe
Characters/Pairings: Kel, OCs
Rating/Warnings: G, futurefic
Written for: dropsofviolet at the drabble prompt post. (Still open, because why not.)
Wordcount: ~450
A/N: I'm going to be posting these up here properly day by day, because I am obsessed with organization. Carry on in peace.
It's been lingering at the edge of conversations for days: the First Company of the King's Own stopping by your village. It's only for a few hours, everyone makes sure to mention, only for a brief rest and perhaps to resupply some - which is excellent, of course, everyone could use the extra coin - but still, the King's Own will be here, on the same streets where you squabble and barter and the children play hopping games in the dirt.
You are almost old enough to admit you're excited, but not quite, so you and Lissa settle on stools outside your house and bend over your sewing as if you haven't a care in the world. You even manage to keep up the pretense until you can see the banner snapping above rooftops.
Everything about the Own gleams, you find: leather and mail, silver trim and shining smiles, the massive bulk of the horses, even the cropped white hair of their commander.
Next to you, Lissa isn't even pretending not to stare. You elbow her, and she blushes; you both giggle and go back to staring.
"I can't tell if she's as tall as everyone says or if it's just the horse," Lissa murmurs, craning her neck.
"No, I think she's tall. Strong-looking anyone." You fiddle with your thread. "I met her once."
Lissa snorts. "Liar."
"No, really, I did," you say, tugging at her elbow until she looks at you. "It was when Mama worked in the palace."
Her eyes go wide. "Oh, riiight. But how?"
You blush; if it was anyone but Lissa, you wouldn't tell, but... "I got lost."
"Really?"
"Yes. I got lost and almost wandered into a banquet, and one of the other nobles yelled at me - I don't know who. She told him off and got me back to Mama." Embarrassment makes you add, "I was only five," but she doesn't like she's about to tease.
"What was she like?" she asks.
You shrug. The truth is a little too ridiculous: young as you were, the lady knight might as well have been a goddess, kind-eyed and enormous in gleaming red silk. She fed you a bit of chicken, you recall, and she didn't seem at all upset when you clung dirty-handed to her skirts. "Very kind," is all you say, "and not like a noble being kind to a servant. Just... kind."
Lissa whistles, looking back at the Knight Commander as she speaks with the mayor. It's loud, probably louder than she meant it to be, and Lady Keladry looks over. Lissa claps her hands over her mouth, but the Lady Knight simply waves one leather-gloved hand and smiles.