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runiclorePrompt: 14 - On-Her-Knees Character
Character: Pelleas
Requested by:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
measuringlife
Words: 160
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Pelleas was on his knees without realizing it, face pressed against the concave stretch of fabric over her abdomen and his arms around her waist, draped on her hips. If only he could cling to her like that - a belt, a scarf, a bit of armor. He'd be so much more useful and she would be safe - safer. Goddess only knew if he would fail even as an object. But an object could be thrown away, and as King--
"I almost lost you," he whispered, holding her tightly. "What would I do without you?"
Micaiah's hand, the unmarked hand, rested against the back of his head. The other hung at her side, healed but still bloody, the rags of her cloak clinging to her skin. "You would go on. I know you would."
No. No I wouldn't. I couldn't--
"Nothing happened." Her hands curled into his hair and combed through it. "It's all right."
No it wasn't. It would never be 'all right.'
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Prompt: 16 - Dominant Character
Character: Sanaki
Requested by:misheard
Words: 181
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Sanaki closed her eyes, rubbed her temples. Sephiran's hand gripped her shoulder, and Lekain was still talking. For someone supposedly clever and very dangerous to her interests, he was remarkably dense when he wanted to be. "Lekain--"
"Your majesty, please. We can't tolerate such insubordination, and Sephiran is perfect for--"
"No." Goddess, was he stupid? She may only be ten, but she understood perfectly well why she shouldn't send her prime minister away, especially when he was already planning a sabbatical. "However, in light of your concern, I will allow you to address the Kilvas problem in Numida's place."
Lekain drew back a hair and glanced at her minister. "But your majesty, my presence-- Sephiran--"
Sanaki struck the arm of her throne with her palm to silence him. "What part of 'no' have you misunderstood? Be silent, or we shall see if the bureaucracy can overturn a my order to behead you before the axe falls. Understood?"
He understood. Sanaki knew she would pay for that later, but watching him back down the steps of the dais was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
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Prompt: 28 - Kick-ass Character
Character: Sephiran
Requested by:misheard
Words: 284
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There had been many attempts on the empress's life and his own since her ascension, but Sephiran was always just a little surprised to find himself dodging knives and arrows. They were in the atrium of the Archive, and he was talking to a junior librarian when he saw the glint of steel in his peripheral vision. The first shot missed, struck a tile on the wall behind Sanaki, and a shard cut across her cheek and drew blood. He sprinted the distance and pulled her by the robe. Another shot missed, and he shielded her, glaring in the assassin's direction. The empress clung to his coat tightly. The librarian ran and disappeared between the stacks.
There were fifteen mezzanine levels - it could have come from anywhere on that side of the building. But his eyes were better than a beorc's; he saw the light slide, diffuse, over the facets of an arrowhead. He saw eyes in the shadow of the thirteenth level overhang, if only for a moment. There was a shadow moving there of its own accord.
He whispered an incantation, holding Sanaki tightly around the middle, and jumped out of the way just before the next arrow reached them. Then his hand whipped out and lightning pealed across the atrium to strike level thirteen. Sephiran pulled the empress into the stacks while their eyes were dazzled and watched the masonry crumble and bounce down to the atrium floor, metal screeching, glass tinkling when the rails were damaged.
That would take quite a bit of money to repair, but the arrows had stopped. "Come," he said, pulling Sanaki away from the chaos. "There may be more of them. We shouldn't let them find us."
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Prompt: 30 - Protective Character
Character: Geoffery
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 593
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Geoffery found the queen in the empress's private garden when the hour had grown late and he realized she'd slipped away from the banquet. Her uncle had pulled him aside as soon as the last course was served and demanded details on Ludveck's rebellion. Bastian or Lucia would have been better candidates for the interrogation, but they were nowhere to be found.
"Your majesty," he said when he approached her bench. He didn't bow - the skin around her eyes always tightened when he went through the motions. "I know you need time to yourself, but even now, we can't--"
"I-I know."
Her back faced him, but her pale oval face was turned up to the stars. Her hair was brushed back and pinned in an elaborate knot, and a dress had been found in her size, a pale green gown the color of new leaves that hugged her hips and pooled on the ground around her feet. It belonged to an Apostle, she told him when they met outside the banquet doors, smiling with a worried line between her eyebrows. What an honor. She must have worried all night about spilling wine onto the silk.
She didn't turn, and Geoffery wished he hadn't began the conversation that way. He rounded the bench and knelt on the grass at her feet. "I apologize if I've smothered you these last two days," he said, staring at her hands. She'd shed her gloves, and he felt he could take one, rubbing it between his own when he felt how cold her fingers were. "You don't need us by your side every minute of the day. That isn't what I want." When he saw her figure disappear through the doorway of the Tower of Guidance, swallowed by shadows and the heavy marble doors that shut with a deep-voiced rumble, or maybe a howl, he thought about all the ways she could fall, be stricken, be wounded. He cut through Ashera's diciples with Lucia by his side, and told himself this one was one less corpse with a sword that could threaten his queen, and that one and another and another. "I will not intrude on your privacy. But..."
Her other hand rested on his cheek and he looked up. "It's like we're back at the beginning," she said, letting it fall to her knees when she had his attention. "We had this conversation a million times before my ascension."
He shook his head. Her hand was smooth. A bandage wrapped around her other palm, where the skin was worn raw by too much swordplay. She only fought occasionally. The Tower, she said, was enough to try the most seasoned warriors, and perhaps too much for her.
"When the tower sang," he said, her hands less threatening to look at than her face, "I thought we'd sent you to certain death. All I could think about was running up the stairs to find you, but the door was locked fast."
"Lord Ike was with us," she said, resting her injured hand over his knuckles gently.
"I know." Geoffery squeezed her hand. If she would rather Ike be her protector, he could stand it - if he had to. But he had to see; even if they were on opposite sides of the battlefield, he had to see where she was, what she was doing. He had to see whether she lived or died. "I know."
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Prompt: 22 - Exploring Character
Character: Lehran
Requested by:oniric_angel
Words: 401
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Lehran lingered by the window that morning, sorting the scrolls moved from Ashunera's other temples into baskets according to their topic - healing, history, philosophy, spells. There were blueprints that had survived the Zunanma, even recipes for food and medicines kind to the environment. The goddess wouldn't so much as pick a flower if the action was unnecessary. He'd read them all, memorized them; sorting them required half his attention, and the other half he kept on the woman in the courtyard, Altina, as she went through her morning forms. She swung those swords around as if they were sticks.
He finished his work long before she paused to rest; when she planted the swords into the soil of the courtyard and stood leaning on one of them, breathing heavily, he spread his wings and leapt from the window to join her. Her stay had stretched for days - almost two weeks now, he thought, or maybe three - but he'd never watched her work up close.
Altina's head turned slightly at his approach. "Do you need my help with something, my lord?"
Lehran landed softly and folded his wings. "No." A bead of sweat slid from her hairline, around the contour of a muscle, where the wings would break the skin if she were an avian, and averted his gaze to Alondite. "I wanted to apologize for knocking them over last night," he said, motioning to the swords. "They were in my way, but I suppose trying to push them aside was a bad idea. They're ridiculously heavy."
She faced him, hands on her hips. "They're no worse than the average broadsword."
He smiled, stepped closer, and reached for one of her arms, resting his fingertips on the chord of muscle near the crook of her elbow. "You're quite strong," he said, pressing her skin, eyes sliding to meet hers.
Altina wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Her skin was bronze against his pale white, her fingers calloused. "I forget how fragile you are sometimes," she said, pressing the bones slightly. He wouldn't have been surprised to hear them crack, if she squeezed any harder. "Don't be afraid to wake me next time. I'm here to serve you."
Lehran watched her lips curve. "Come inside," he said when she released him. "You must be hungry."
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Prompt: 15 - Obedient Character
Character: Rafiel
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 336
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"I told you," Rafiel said, pulling his blood-stained cloak over his shoulder, "It was just a scratch. Nothing to be so worried about."
"With all that blood?" The wool spilled out of his lap and Nailah snatched it before it hit the floor, spreading the side with the offending stain. The shredded edges of the tear, where the arrow grazed him, were gummed with red. "Tibarn didn't bleed this much, and I did worse."
Rafiel frowned at the cloak. "You attacked him?"
"He knocked you over - right into the path of that arrow!"
His feathers cramped together. They were on opposing sides - somewhat - but he didn't know they'd fought. Rafiel hadn't met with Tibarn in twenty years, but he remembered-- and Nailah, she was so strong, but-- "It was aimed for my heart," he said. "He took the hit."
Nailah's eye narrowed, and she folded his cloak messily, stuffed it under the cot, kicking it under when it rolled out onto the tent floor. "You were crying."
There's no crying in battle! Rafiel's wings snapped and he turned away. "Not because of that."
There certainly should be more emotion involved in battle. He'd always wondered if people would refrain from doing such horrible things to each other if they simply stopped to think about it. Merely striking a soldier to save himself made Rafiel sick to his stomach - and there was part of him, now, that shrank before such willingness to strike the defenseless down.
Reyson might dislike his nature, but Rafiel knew strength was not meant for him. His brother never had the chance to come to terms with that.
"Don't wait for the front line to come to you," Nailah said, taking his hand. Hers were soft, warm, and wrapped around his fingers easily, as unmovable as iron. "If I tell you to leave the battlefield, Rafiel, I expect you to do it. I will not risk you just for a song."
He slid his gaze sideways and watched her fingers stroke his palm. Then he inclined his head.
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Prompt: 9 - Book-reading Character
Character: Soren
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 308
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Soren marked his page and let his eyes wander over the edge of the green cover to the lamp. The wick was almost gone, and the oil running low. And while the camp was never quiet - the night was always broken by calls from the watch and the sounds of the local wildlife - it had been at least an hour since anybody but Tanith had passed in the vicinity of the command tent. Her 'abridged report' was the reason he was still awake, waiting for Ike to dig through her paperwork to reach the forms for the new recruits. He should have known nothing that emerged from Begnion, even staff and supply reports, would be concise.
And Ike leaned on the table across from him, face resting on a hand, pen poised on the parchment. His eyes were plastered closed and caked with sleep at last glance, and Soren might have been able to ignore it if not for the long, breathy snore that broke his concentration.
He slanted his gaze across the table and snapped his book shut. Ike's head jerked up. "Uh--"
Soren rested the book on the table and turned his head. "Is there something you need?"
Ike blinked at him, then looked down at the paper he was supposed to be signing. "--yeah, this... the extra forging fees we're getting from the pegasus knights."
"Sharpening. Pegusi require a different grooming regimen, apparently." Soren dragged his cloak from the back of his chair and pulled it over his shoulders. He would have taken the paperwork himself and had it done earlier, but their allies insisted on a proper command chain and the right signature on every document. "You sign on pages thirty and forty-seven," he said, standing up, walking to the tent flap while Ike leafed through the parchment to find the right pages. "I'll get some coffee."
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Prompt: 11 - Jealous Character
Character: Soren
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 267
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Usually it was the women Soren ahd to get rid of. The panted after Ike like starving dogs after meat, and if he'd ever paid them the least bit of attention or interest it might be understandable, but he didn't; following him with boxed lunches or cookies or ale only earned a distracted thank-you if he noticed at all. Soren made it a point to pay all of them for their services, and they never seemed to come back when he termed it that way, so they never found out that he shoved all of their gifts onto Boyd.
This time it was Tormod, and he just would not leave. He only rolled his eyes when Soren implied he should. They ran into each other during the battle for Duke Tanas's manor, where they were taking shelter for the night, and while he sifted through the paperwork - they were working for Begnion, and Begnion always came with a metric tone of paper to push around - Tormod was describing the condition of the road south to Ike. Their improvised war room was set up in the Tanas gallery, and paintings of Oliver smirked at him from every angle. Aimee's fingerprints glared from the edge of Ike's shoulder plate, where she'd clung to him earlier with an invitation to dinner.
Soren flipped his book shut. Ike needed sleep. This was for the good of the company. And Soren really wanted to relieve him of that shoulder plate before he could grind his teeth to powder. "Tormod."
Their companion paused mid-sentence and twisted in his chair to look back. "Soren?"
"Get out."
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Prompt: 20 - Greedy Character
Character: Oliver
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 416
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Oliver supposed it would be bad form to thank Ashera for blessing him with the opportunity to behold herons again now that she was dead, or at least dissipated for the time being, but the habit was written in his bones, ingrained since childhood. He waited outside their tent, a decent ten steps away, and listened to them converse in their musical tongue while he contemplated the goddess's tower. He'd never cared for its use in magic, but when the words came from a heron's pliant lips, the ugliest syllables became a pleasure to hear - though he would admit they'd been talking for quite a while and he was beginning to tire of waiting--
A flash of red caught his eye. Oliver's knee bent on reflex, but it wasn't his empress - it was that impertinent fire mage walking his direction, and when he saw the boy aiming his steps toward the tent he stepped directly into the way. "They're occupied," he said, staring down his nose at his guest. "Come back later."
The boy - his name started with a T, didn't it, though Oliver couldn't recall the rest - looked him up and down, tried to walk around him. "I have a--"
Oliver backpedaled and lurched into the boy's path again. He wasn't about to let someone else break up their meeting; if he couldn't do it, no one would. "I have been ordered by the prime minister to halt all visitors."
Tormod - yes, that was his name! - frowned. "Yeah, right, because he was so thrilled to see you upstairs. Now can you get out of my way? Ike wants to see them."
"Does he." Finally, the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Oliver smoothed his mustache and made a shooing motion. "Go! I will notify them. Go, get away, let him know they'll be there shortly."
For a moment he thought the boy would press the issue, or perhaps pull out his tome and force Oliver to do something he wouldn't really regret, but Tormod simply rolled his eyes and spun around to walk away. He glanced back a few times; Oliver waited until he disappeared behind the next tent, and then hurried to the entrance. Sephiran's voice beckoned. Who would have guessed he hid such a secret? Oliver's hands shook. Calm, be calm. He hoped they wouldn't throw him out this time.
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Prompt: 4 - Angsty Character
Character: Pelleas
Requested by:measuringlife
Words: 408
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The decision was so natural Pelleas didn't dwell on it as he thought he would when they left the Tower. It was counter-intuitive, to give up one's crown when it was just earned - or stolen, though he couldn't be held accountable for that when he didn't know, could he? And yet he couldn't argue he must harbor a special brand of insanity, to willingly leave the comfort of Daein Keep for the colder, emptier, blood-slicked streets outside.
He had second thoughts when he woke the first morning back in Daein, watching the pale morning sunlight creep across the ceiling in increments of moments, memories; his mother-- no, Lady Almedha woke him with her cold hands pressed to his cheeks and her lips to his forehead, over the mark. It tingled when she sat up and smiled at him. His heart skipped. For a moment he couldn't breathe. That such a beautiful woman could be his mother-- it was too good to be true. There was Izuka and his instructions, muttered from the corner of his mouth at each function; Tauroneo kneeling, silver armor gleaming the light of a thousand lamps. Micaiah at the entrance to the command tent, hair outshining his retainer's armor. Micaiah, promising victory when he begged her to fight a battle she didn't understand. Micaiah, exhausted and wasting away because of his own idiocy, collapsing into Sothe's arms.
Pelleas threw his quilt back and got up. Micaiah was out in the bare garden as she was every morning when he went to the window and parted the curtains, her shadow at her side. On their way back home one of the herons had given her seeds for a tree he'd never heard of; she translated it as 'winter tree,' told him they would bloom year-long when they reached maturity and grow twice as tall as the walls of the keep. She planted one seed per plot, and now cared for them every day, warming the soil with magic and watering each seed when appropriate.
He wouldn't have known where to begin. It was the story of his life. He couldn't raise a tree, nor rule a country, but Micaiah - she could do anything. Daein would bloom and bear fruit in her hands. Perhaps he would have too, if she'd allowed his bones to rejoin the earth.
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Prompt: 7 - Changing-In-The-[someplace-canon-specific; please specify - garage] Character
Character: of course I chose Sanaki
Requested by: free choice~
Words: 394
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Sanaki dipped her fingers into the pool Lehran led her to. "It's cold." The sky burned red and gold with sunset, and the trees were shadows against it, unidentifiable to her unpracticed eye except for the oak she chose as shelter for the night, back at the clearing. The spring was crowded with these nameless trees and choked with mud and grass on the far side. Ivy and fern were rooted between the rocks. The map in Serenes had given it the lovely name 'Ivy glade,' but it was sadly lacking in descriptive quality. The farther south of the center they flew, the more mundane the forest became.
Lehran knelt beside her on the rocky shore and peered in. "I'm sorry. They probably didn't check when they mapped it." He touched the surface and winced. "It's a bit large to heat, but--"
"No, don't bother." She rose and unclasped her cloak. Tanith's call echoed from the clearing a dozen meters to the left, and Sigrun's answer was farther away. Pegusi wings beat and rustled; a flash of white caught her eye, and then disappeared. "Bathing in a tent during a Daein winter is far worse than a bit of cold water." She let her cloak pool on the ground, shed her coat and tossed it in the same direction, and reached back to unbutton her riding dress. "The area is clear, correct?"
"Yes, I--" He looked up and started back, almost fell, eyes wide. "Your majesty, here? Your knights--"
"Have seen it all before," Sanaki said, twisting her arm. "Come here. This button-- I can't reach it." He regained his feet while she righted her arm and rubbed her shoulder. But he was slow to approach, his wings showing what his composed expression did not - nerves in the constant shift of the flight feathers, out and in again, hesitation in the way they cramped to his back. She rolled her eyes. "We'll just have to be quiet, then."
Lehran turned her around, unbuttoning her dress quickly, down to the waist. "'We?'"
"That's right." Sanaki turned around and planted her hands on her hips. "I'm tired of being a virgin, Lehran, and you're going to help me fix that. Now."
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Character: Pelleas
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 160
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Pelleas was on his knees without realizing it, face pressed against the concave stretch of fabric over her abdomen and his arms around her waist, draped on her hips. If only he could cling to her like that - a belt, a scarf, a bit of armor. He'd be so much more useful and she would be safe - safer. Goddess only knew if he would fail even as an object. But an object could be thrown away, and as King--
"I almost lost you," he whispered, holding her tightly. "What would I do without you?"
Micaiah's hand, the unmarked hand, rested against the back of his head. The other hung at her side, healed but still bloody, the rags of her cloak clinging to her skin. "You would go on. I know you would."
No. No I wouldn't. I couldn't--
"Nothing happened." Her hands curled into his hair and combed through it. "It's all right."
No it wasn't. It would never be 'all right.'
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Prompt: 16 - Dominant Character
Character: Sanaki
Requested by:
misheardWords: 181
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Sanaki closed her eyes, rubbed her temples. Sephiran's hand gripped her shoulder, and Lekain was still talking. For someone supposedly clever and very dangerous to her interests, he was remarkably dense when he wanted to be. "Lekain--"
"Your majesty, please. We can't tolerate such insubordination, and Sephiran is perfect for--"
"No." Goddess, was he stupid? She may only be ten, but she understood perfectly well why she shouldn't send her prime minister away, especially when he was already planning a sabbatical. "However, in light of your concern, I will allow you to address the Kilvas problem in Numida's place."
Lekain drew back a hair and glanced at her minister. "But your majesty, my presence-- Sephiran--"
Sanaki struck the arm of her throne with her palm to silence him. "What part of 'no' have you misunderstood? Be silent, or we shall see if the bureaucracy can overturn a my order to behead you before the axe falls. Understood?"
He understood. Sanaki knew she would pay for that later, but watching him back down the steps of the dais was enough to bring a smile to her lips.
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Prompt: 28 - Kick-ass Character
Character: Sephiran
Requested by:
misheardWords: 284
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There had been many attempts on the empress's life and his own since her ascension, but Sephiran was always just a little surprised to find himself dodging knives and arrows. They were in the atrium of the Archive, and he was talking to a junior librarian when he saw the glint of steel in his peripheral vision. The first shot missed, struck a tile on the wall behind Sanaki, and a shard cut across her cheek and drew blood. He sprinted the distance and pulled her by the robe. Another shot missed, and he shielded her, glaring in the assassin's direction. The empress clung to his coat tightly. The librarian ran and disappeared between the stacks.
There were fifteen mezzanine levels - it could have come from anywhere on that side of the building. But his eyes were better than a beorc's; he saw the light slide, diffuse, over the facets of an arrowhead. He saw eyes in the shadow of the thirteenth level overhang, if only for a moment. There was a shadow moving there of its own accord.
He whispered an incantation, holding Sanaki tightly around the middle, and jumped out of the way just before the next arrow reached them. Then his hand whipped out and lightning pealed across the atrium to strike level thirteen. Sephiran pulled the empress into the stacks while their eyes were dazzled and watched the masonry crumble and bounce down to the atrium floor, metal screeching, glass tinkling when the rails were damaged.
That would take quite a bit of money to repair, but the arrows had stopped. "Come," he said, pulling Sanaki away from the chaos. "There may be more of them. We shouldn't let them find us."
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Prompt: 30 - Protective Character
Character: Geoffery
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 593
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Geoffery found the queen in the empress's private garden when the hour had grown late and he realized she'd slipped away from the banquet. Her uncle had pulled him aside as soon as the last course was served and demanded details on Ludveck's rebellion. Bastian or Lucia would have been better candidates for the interrogation, but they were nowhere to be found.
"Your majesty," he said when he approached her bench. He didn't bow - the skin around her eyes always tightened when he went through the motions. "I know you need time to yourself, but even now, we can't--"
"I-I know."
Her back faced him, but her pale oval face was turned up to the stars. Her hair was brushed back and pinned in an elaborate knot, and a dress had been found in her size, a pale green gown the color of new leaves that hugged her hips and pooled on the ground around her feet. It belonged to an Apostle, she told him when they met outside the banquet doors, smiling with a worried line between her eyebrows. What an honor. She must have worried all night about spilling wine onto the silk.
She didn't turn, and Geoffery wished he hadn't began the conversation that way. He rounded the bench and knelt on the grass at her feet. "I apologize if I've smothered you these last two days," he said, staring at her hands. She'd shed her gloves, and he felt he could take one, rubbing it between his own when he felt how cold her fingers were. "You don't need us by your side every minute of the day. That isn't what I want." When he saw her figure disappear through the doorway of the Tower of Guidance, swallowed by shadows and the heavy marble doors that shut with a deep-voiced rumble, or maybe a howl, he thought about all the ways she could fall, be stricken, be wounded. He cut through Ashera's diciples with Lucia by his side, and told himself this one was one less corpse with a sword that could threaten his queen, and that one and another and another. "I will not intrude on your privacy. But..."
Her other hand rested on his cheek and he looked up. "It's like we're back at the beginning," she said, letting it fall to her knees when she had his attention. "We had this conversation a million times before my ascension."
He shook his head. Her hand was smooth. A bandage wrapped around her other palm, where the skin was worn raw by too much swordplay. She only fought occasionally. The Tower, she said, was enough to try the most seasoned warriors, and perhaps too much for her.
"When the tower sang," he said, her hands less threatening to look at than her face, "I thought we'd sent you to certain death. All I could think about was running up the stairs to find you, but the door was locked fast."
"Lord Ike was with us," she said, resting her injured hand over his knuckles gently.
"I know." Geoffery squeezed her hand. If she would rather Ike be her protector, he could stand it - if he had to. But he had to see; even if they were on opposite sides of the battlefield, he had to see where she was, what she was doing. He had to see whether she lived or died. "I know."
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Prompt: 22 - Exploring Character
Character: Lehran
Requested by:
oniric_angelWords: 401
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Lehran lingered by the window that morning, sorting the scrolls moved from Ashunera's other temples into baskets according to their topic - healing, history, philosophy, spells. There were blueprints that had survived the Zunanma, even recipes for food and medicines kind to the environment. The goddess wouldn't so much as pick a flower if the action was unnecessary. He'd read them all, memorized them; sorting them required half his attention, and the other half he kept on the woman in the courtyard, Altina, as she went through her morning forms. She swung those swords around as if they were sticks.
He finished his work long before she paused to rest; when she planted the swords into the soil of the courtyard and stood leaning on one of them, breathing heavily, he spread his wings and leapt from the window to join her. Her stay had stretched for days - almost two weeks now, he thought, or maybe three - but he'd never watched her work up close.
Altina's head turned slightly at his approach. "Do you need my help with something, my lord?"
Lehran landed softly and folded his wings. "No." A bead of sweat slid from her hairline, around the contour of a muscle, where the wings would break the skin if she were an avian, and averted his gaze to Alondite. "I wanted to apologize for knocking them over last night," he said, motioning to the swords. "They were in my way, but I suppose trying to push them aside was a bad idea. They're ridiculously heavy."
She faced him, hands on her hips. "They're no worse than the average broadsword."
He smiled, stepped closer, and reached for one of her arms, resting his fingertips on the chord of muscle near the crook of her elbow. "You're quite strong," he said, pressing her skin, eyes sliding to meet hers.
Altina wrapped her fingers around his wrist. Her skin was bronze against his pale white, her fingers calloused. "I forget how fragile you are sometimes," she said, pressing the bones slightly. He wouldn't have been surprised to hear them crack, if she squeezed any harder. "Don't be afraid to wake me next time. I'm here to serve you."
Lehran watched her lips curve. "Come inside," he said when she released him. "You must be hungry."
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Prompt: 15 - Obedient Character
Character: Rafiel
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 336
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"I told you," Rafiel said, pulling his blood-stained cloak over his shoulder, "It was just a scratch. Nothing to be so worried about."
"With all that blood?" The wool spilled out of his lap and Nailah snatched it before it hit the floor, spreading the side with the offending stain. The shredded edges of the tear, where the arrow grazed him, were gummed with red. "Tibarn didn't bleed this much, and I did worse."
Rafiel frowned at the cloak. "You attacked him?"
"He knocked you over - right into the path of that arrow!"
His feathers cramped together. They were on opposing sides - somewhat - but he didn't know they'd fought. Rafiel hadn't met with Tibarn in twenty years, but he remembered-- and Nailah, she was so strong, but-- "It was aimed for my heart," he said. "He took the hit."
Nailah's eye narrowed, and she folded his cloak messily, stuffed it under the cot, kicking it under when it rolled out onto the tent floor. "You were crying."
There's no crying in battle! Rafiel's wings snapped and he turned away. "Not because of that."
There certainly should be more emotion involved in battle. He'd always wondered if people would refrain from doing such horrible things to each other if they simply stopped to think about it. Merely striking a soldier to save himself made Rafiel sick to his stomach - and there was part of him, now, that shrank before such willingness to strike the defenseless down.
Reyson might dislike his nature, but Rafiel knew strength was not meant for him. His brother never had the chance to come to terms with that.
"Don't wait for the front line to come to you," Nailah said, taking his hand. Hers were soft, warm, and wrapped around his fingers easily, as unmovable as iron. "If I tell you to leave the battlefield, Rafiel, I expect you to do it. I will not risk you just for a song."
He slid his gaze sideways and watched her fingers stroke his palm. Then he inclined his head.
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Prompt: 9 - Book-reading Character
Character: Soren
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 308
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Soren marked his page and let his eyes wander over the edge of the green cover to the lamp. The wick was almost gone, and the oil running low. And while the camp was never quiet - the night was always broken by calls from the watch and the sounds of the local wildlife - it had been at least an hour since anybody but Tanith had passed in the vicinity of the command tent. Her 'abridged report' was the reason he was still awake, waiting for Ike to dig through her paperwork to reach the forms for the new recruits. He should have known nothing that emerged from Begnion, even staff and supply reports, would be concise.
And Ike leaned on the table across from him, face resting on a hand, pen poised on the parchment. His eyes were plastered closed and caked with sleep at last glance, and Soren might have been able to ignore it if not for the long, breathy snore that broke his concentration.
He slanted his gaze across the table and snapped his book shut. Ike's head jerked up. "Uh--"
Soren rested the book on the table and turned his head. "Is there something you need?"
Ike blinked at him, then looked down at the paper he was supposed to be signing. "--yeah, this... the extra forging fees we're getting from the pegasus knights."
"Sharpening. Pegusi require a different grooming regimen, apparently." Soren dragged his cloak from the back of his chair and pulled it over his shoulders. He would have taken the paperwork himself and had it done earlier, but their allies insisted on a proper command chain and the right signature on every document. "You sign on pages thirty and forty-seven," he said, standing up, walking to the tent flap while Ike leafed through the parchment to find the right pages. "I'll get some coffee."
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Prompt: 11 - Jealous Character
Character: Soren
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 267
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Usually it was the women Soren ahd to get rid of. The panted after Ike like starving dogs after meat, and if he'd ever paid them the least bit of attention or interest it might be understandable, but he didn't; following him with boxed lunches or cookies or ale only earned a distracted thank-you if he noticed at all. Soren made it a point to pay all of them for their services, and they never seemed to come back when he termed it that way, so they never found out that he shoved all of their gifts onto Boyd.
This time it was Tormod, and he just would not leave. He only rolled his eyes when Soren implied he should. They ran into each other during the battle for Duke Tanas's manor, where they were taking shelter for the night, and while he sifted through the paperwork - they were working for Begnion, and Begnion always came with a metric tone of paper to push around - Tormod was describing the condition of the road south to Ike. Their improvised war room was set up in the Tanas gallery, and paintings of Oliver smirked at him from every angle. Aimee's fingerprints glared from the edge of Ike's shoulder plate, where she'd clung to him earlier with an invitation to dinner.
Soren flipped his book shut. Ike needed sleep. This was for the good of the company. And Soren really wanted to relieve him of that shoulder plate before he could grind his teeth to powder. "Tormod."
Their companion paused mid-sentence and twisted in his chair to look back. "Soren?"
"Get out."
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Prompt: 20 - Greedy Character
Character: Oliver
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 416
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Oliver supposed it would be bad form to thank Ashera for blessing him with the opportunity to behold herons again now that she was dead, or at least dissipated for the time being, but the habit was written in his bones, ingrained since childhood. He waited outside their tent, a decent ten steps away, and listened to them converse in their musical tongue while he contemplated the goddess's tower. He'd never cared for its use in magic, but when the words came from a heron's pliant lips, the ugliest syllables became a pleasure to hear - though he would admit they'd been talking for quite a while and he was beginning to tire of waiting--
A flash of red caught his eye. Oliver's knee bent on reflex, but it wasn't his empress - it was that impertinent fire mage walking his direction, and when he saw the boy aiming his steps toward the tent he stepped directly into the way. "They're occupied," he said, staring down his nose at his guest. "Come back later."
The boy - his name started with a T, didn't it, though Oliver couldn't recall the rest - looked him up and down, tried to walk around him. "I have a--"
Oliver backpedaled and lurched into the boy's path again. He wasn't about to let someone else break up their meeting; if he couldn't do it, no one would. "I have been ordered by the prime minister to halt all visitors."
Tormod - yes, that was his name! - frowned. "Yeah, right, because he was so thrilled to see you upstairs. Now can you get out of my way? Ike wants to see them."
"Does he." Finally, the opportunity he'd been waiting for. Oliver smoothed his mustache and made a shooing motion. "Go! I will notify them. Go, get away, let him know they'll be there shortly."
For a moment he thought the boy would press the issue, or perhaps pull out his tome and force Oliver to do something he wouldn't really regret, but Tormod simply rolled his eyes and spun around to walk away. He glanced back a few times; Oliver waited until he disappeared behind the next tent, and then hurried to the entrance. Sephiran's voice beckoned. Who would have guessed he hid such a secret? Oliver's hands shook. Calm, be calm. He hoped they wouldn't throw him out this time.
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Prompt: 4 - Angsty Character
Character: Pelleas
Requested by:
measuringlifeWords: 408
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The decision was so natural Pelleas didn't dwell on it as he thought he would when they left the Tower. It was counter-intuitive, to give up one's crown when it was just earned - or stolen, though he couldn't be held accountable for that when he didn't know, could he? And yet he couldn't argue he must harbor a special brand of insanity, to willingly leave the comfort of Daein Keep for the colder, emptier, blood-slicked streets outside.
He had second thoughts when he woke the first morning back in Daein, watching the pale morning sunlight creep across the ceiling in increments of moments, memories; his mother-- no, Lady Almedha woke him with her cold hands pressed to his cheeks and her lips to his forehead, over the mark. It tingled when she sat up and smiled at him. His heart skipped. For a moment he couldn't breathe. That such a beautiful woman could be his mother-- it was too good to be true. There was Izuka and his instructions, muttered from the corner of his mouth at each function; Tauroneo kneeling, silver armor gleaming the light of a thousand lamps. Micaiah at the entrance to the command tent, hair outshining his retainer's armor. Micaiah, promising victory when he begged her to fight a battle she didn't understand. Micaiah, exhausted and wasting away because of his own idiocy, collapsing into Sothe's arms.
Pelleas threw his quilt back and got up. Micaiah was out in the bare garden as she was every morning when he went to the window and parted the curtains, her shadow at her side. On their way back home one of the herons had given her seeds for a tree he'd never heard of; she translated it as 'winter tree,' told him they would bloom year-long when they reached maturity and grow twice as tall as the walls of the keep. She planted one seed per plot, and now cared for them every day, warming the soil with magic and watering each seed when appropriate.
He wouldn't have known where to begin. It was the story of his life. He couldn't raise a tree, nor rule a country, but Micaiah - she could do anything. Daein would bloom and bear fruit in her hands. Perhaps he would have too, if she'd allowed his bones to rejoin the earth.
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Prompt: 7 - Changing-In-The-[someplace-canon-specific; please specify - garage] Character
Character: of course I chose Sanaki
Requested by: free choice~
Words: 394
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Sanaki dipped her fingers into the pool Lehran led her to. "It's cold." The sky burned red and gold with sunset, and the trees were shadows against it, unidentifiable to her unpracticed eye except for the oak she chose as shelter for the night, back at the clearing. The spring was crowded with these nameless trees and choked with mud and grass on the far side. Ivy and fern were rooted between the rocks. The map in Serenes had given it the lovely name 'Ivy glade,' but it was sadly lacking in descriptive quality. The farther south of the center they flew, the more mundane the forest became.
Lehran knelt beside her on the rocky shore and peered in. "I'm sorry. They probably didn't check when they mapped it." He touched the surface and winced. "It's a bit large to heat, but--"
"No, don't bother." She rose and unclasped her cloak. Tanith's call echoed from the clearing a dozen meters to the left, and Sigrun's answer was farther away. Pegusi wings beat and rustled; a flash of white caught her eye, and then disappeared. "Bathing in a tent during a Daein winter is far worse than a bit of cold water." She let her cloak pool on the ground, shed her coat and tossed it in the same direction, and reached back to unbutton her riding dress. "The area is clear, correct?"
"Yes, I--" He looked up and started back, almost fell, eyes wide. "Your majesty, here? Your knights--"
"Have seen it all before," Sanaki said, twisting her arm. "Come here. This button-- I can't reach it." He regained his feet while she righted her arm and rubbed her shoulder. But he was slow to approach, his wings showing what his composed expression did not - nerves in the constant shift of the flight feathers, out and in again, hesitation in the way they cramped to his back. She rolled her eyes. "We'll just have to be quiet, then."
Lehran turned her around, unbuttoning her dress quickly, down to the waist. "'We?'"
"That's right." Sanaki turned around and planted her hands on her hips. "I'm tired of being a virgin, Lehran, and you're going to help me fix that. Now."
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![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2008-10-31 02:44 pm (UTC)..! *innocent look. Halo*
The last one is very pretty :D Sanaki totally WOULD change in front of her (female) guards. Tanith rolls her eyes and Sigrun fusses.
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Date: 2008-10-31 06:57 pm (UTC)That last scene? All your fault. :D
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Date: 2008-10-31 04:28 pm (UTC)Geoffrey is sad too. I can hear his gut clench every time he hears Elincia say "Ike".
"I'm tired of being a virgin, Lehran, and you're going to help me fix that. Now."
Nothing like sexy talk to help him get it on.
no subject
Date: 2008-10-31 07:00 pm (UTC)Hahaha. XD That line was all