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runicloreAnother Day
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: December 30 - Allow me to remind you that there is no memory that time does not efface, no pain that death does not destroy.
Series: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance / Radiant Dawn
Characters: Sephiran, little Sanaki
Rating: K
Words: 1053
Warnings: gen.
Notes: Somebody told me I should write some platonic fluff with these two, but since this is me we're talking about, I had to insert some grim foreshadowing.
....................................................................
"Sephiran," his little empress said, still wrapped in her white fleece blanket, which she wore like a mantle of state. It was morning, before sunrise, the air already frozen and the floor like ice. "Take me to see the snow."
She sat by the hearth, lit from the side with hues of red and gold while she kicked her legs back and forth against the frame. Her hair frizzed around the cowl of her blanket, sticking to her cheeks where creases from her pillowcase still showed on her skin. "It's too early for snow here," Sephiran said, walking around the sofa to lean over the back of the chair and pull the blanket down to free her hair. She tried to brush his hand away. "Sienne may not get any at all."
"Stop, stop, it's cold--" He let her pull the blanket back up, leaned on the back of her chair. The cushion was wide enough that Sanaki could turn around fully and sit cross-legged-- which he'd told her to stop doing because it was a bad habit, putting one's feet on the chair, whether there were shoes involved or not. She stuck her tongue out when she looked up at him, as if she knew his thoughts. "Then take me out of Sienne. Take me to--" She pursed her plump lips. "Daein."
Sephiran laughed, then choked it back when she glared, clearing his throat. The tick of the clock was oppressively loud when she looked at him like that, her eyes narrow and her fists balled - sure signs she was about to yell. "If we cross the Daein border without making an official visit, the fighting will start up again - and you know the senate won't condone a journey like that. It's too dangerous."
"They don't have to know!" Sanaki grabbed the arms of the chair and used the cushion to bounce up onto her feet so her blanket hood fell back and ruffled her hair. "You wouldn't tell them - I know you can use magic to cross distances, I saw you do it for Zelgius!"
His next heartbeat jolted in his chest. When - and where - did she see that? Sephiran listened to his own breathing, made sure it was normal, looked down at Sanaki and the scrunch of her dark brows. Even standing atop the chair she was still small, and had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes and compel him with her stare. She reminded him of a doll, one of the richly detailed porcelain creations the artisans of his clan used to make for the royal children, for offerings to Ashera. The light of the fire, the dim illumination of the lamp on her empty table, the bright bleeding white of her shroud-- for that was what it would become, this blanket, if the fighting up north continued and ignited a real war. Tellius was like a tangle of dry brush just waiting for a spark.
"I'm tired of this place," she said, more lines appearing on her forehead to reflect her frown. "I want to go home."
Sephiran bent to pick her up around the waist and swept her legs up with his other arm. Her blanket draped and trailed on the floor. "Sienne is home."
"No." He felt her cold hands cling to his neck, felt her fingers curl into his hair where it was gathered with a ribbon. She let her legs dangle, and Sephiran was reminded again of the doll, his sacrifice. "Persis is home."
He didn't look at her, turning instead to carry her back into her room where it was still dark and smelled like the lavender he threw onto the coals to lull her to sleep. "It doesn't snow in Persis, either." Instead it had lulled him in the other room, and he wondered how long she'd been awake, watching him sleep on his manuscript. That was not the best example he could have set for her. "Now, your bed will be much warmer--"
Sanaki locked her arms around his neck, pressed her face to his cheek. Her breath tickled his throat, coming in short puffs, and she asked him to let her sleep on his arm instead. Let her stay. She would be good - she would close her eyes and think sleepy thoughts, and she would pray to Ashera and then be very quiet, so he could read those papers and write his proposal. He could even use her favorite chair. It was big enough for both of them, and they would be warm, and by the fire, and he would have a table-- please? He knelt by her bed and tried to put her down, but she only held on more tightly and said I'm cold, it's cold, and it sounded like she might cry. His empress was good at feigning tears, good at almost everything - for a girl of six - but he'd listened to her toss and twist in bed every night for two years now, sighing, sometimes whimpering, never sleeping.
Something in her remembered that night in Daein, that cold snowy night - her mother's last breath. She always claimed not to recall. Sephiran sat down with her first, convinced her to let go, then relented and let her push him under the quilt before she crawled in after him. They'd spent many nights together like this after he rescued her from that place: one blanket, his shoulder for her pillow. How she could be cold when it seemed her body radiated heat like a furnace, he didn't know.
Zelgius would laugh if he saw them - or perhaps he would frown, and warn Sephiran that growing attached to his sacrifice would make the final task that much harder.
Sanaki murmured a good-night into his shoulder, and an 'I love you,' and he curled his arm around her, locked his fingers together so his arm wouldn't give out and let her slide under the blankets. Her dark head fit perfectly beneath his chin.
He could let go another day.
.
Author: Amber Michelle
Day/Theme: December 30 - Allow me to remind you that there is no memory that time does not efface, no pain that death does not destroy.
Series: Fire Emblem: Path of Radiance / Radiant Dawn
Characters: Sephiran, little Sanaki
Rating: K
Words: 1053
Warnings: gen.
Notes: Somebody told me I should write some platonic fluff with these two, but since this is me we're talking about, I had to insert some grim foreshadowing.
....................................................................
"Sephiran," his little empress said, still wrapped in her white fleece blanket, which she wore like a mantle of state. It was morning, before sunrise, the air already frozen and the floor like ice. "Take me to see the snow."
She sat by the hearth, lit from the side with hues of red and gold while she kicked her legs back and forth against the frame. Her hair frizzed around the cowl of her blanket, sticking to her cheeks where creases from her pillowcase still showed on her skin. "It's too early for snow here," Sephiran said, walking around the sofa to lean over the back of the chair and pull the blanket down to free her hair. She tried to brush his hand away. "Sienne may not get any at all."
"Stop, stop, it's cold--" He let her pull the blanket back up, leaned on the back of her chair. The cushion was wide enough that Sanaki could turn around fully and sit cross-legged-- which he'd told her to stop doing because it was a bad habit, putting one's feet on the chair, whether there were shoes involved or not. She stuck her tongue out when she looked up at him, as if she knew his thoughts. "Then take me out of Sienne. Take me to--" She pursed her plump lips. "Daein."
Sephiran laughed, then choked it back when she glared, clearing his throat. The tick of the clock was oppressively loud when she looked at him like that, her eyes narrow and her fists balled - sure signs she was about to yell. "If we cross the Daein border without making an official visit, the fighting will start up again - and you know the senate won't condone a journey like that. It's too dangerous."
"They don't have to know!" Sanaki grabbed the arms of the chair and used the cushion to bounce up onto her feet so her blanket hood fell back and ruffled her hair. "You wouldn't tell them - I know you can use magic to cross distances, I saw you do it for Zelgius!"
His next heartbeat jolted in his chest. When - and where - did she see that? Sephiran listened to his own breathing, made sure it was normal, looked down at Sanaki and the scrunch of her dark brows. Even standing atop the chair she was still small, and had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes and compel him with her stare. She reminded him of a doll, one of the richly detailed porcelain creations the artisans of his clan used to make for the royal children, for offerings to Ashera. The light of the fire, the dim illumination of the lamp on her empty table, the bright bleeding white of her shroud-- for that was what it would become, this blanket, if the fighting up north continued and ignited a real war. Tellius was like a tangle of dry brush just waiting for a spark.
"I'm tired of this place," she said, more lines appearing on her forehead to reflect her frown. "I want to go home."
Sephiran bent to pick her up around the waist and swept her legs up with his other arm. Her blanket draped and trailed on the floor. "Sienne is home."
"No." He felt her cold hands cling to his neck, felt her fingers curl into his hair where it was gathered with a ribbon. She let her legs dangle, and Sephiran was reminded again of the doll, his sacrifice. "Persis is home."
He didn't look at her, turning instead to carry her back into her room where it was still dark and smelled like the lavender he threw onto the coals to lull her to sleep. "It doesn't snow in Persis, either." Instead it had lulled him in the other room, and he wondered how long she'd been awake, watching him sleep on his manuscript. That was not the best example he could have set for her. "Now, your bed will be much warmer--"
Sanaki locked her arms around his neck, pressed her face to his cheek. Her breath tickled his throat, coming in short puffs, and she asked him to let her sleep on his arm instead. Let her stay. She would be good - she would close her eyes and think sleepy thoughts, and she would pray to Ashera and then be very quiet, so he could read those papers and write his proposal. He could even use her favorite chair. It was big enough for both of them, and they would be warm, and by the fire, and he would have a table-- please? He knelt by her bed and tried to put her down, but she only held on more tightly and said I'm cold, it's cold, and it sounded like she might cry. His empress was good at feigning tears, good at almost everything - for a girl of six - but he'd listened to her toss and twist in bed every night for two years now, sighing, sometimes whimpering, never sleeping.
Something in her remembered that night in Daein, that cold snowy night - her mother's last breath. She always claimed not to recall. Sephiran sat down with her first, convinced her to let go, then relented and let her push him under the quilt before she crawled in after him. They'd spent many nights together like this after he rescued her from that place: one blanket, his shoulder for her pillow. How she could be cold when it seemed her body radiated heat like a furnace, he didn't know.
Zelgius would laugh if he saw them - or perhaps he would frown, and warn Sephiran that growing attached to his sacrifice would make the final task that much harder.
Sanaki murmured a good-night into his shoulder, and an 'I love you,' and he curled his arm around her, locked his fingers together so his arm wouldn't give out and let her slide under the blankets. Her dark head fit perfectly beneath his chin.
He could let go another day.
.