[Fire Emblem 10] Walk a Mile
May. 21st, 2009 12:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreWalk a Mile
By: Amber Michelle
Prompt: badass
Character(s): Mist, Boyd
Words: 494
For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
searains (original request post is here)
......................................................
Mist sits on a stool at a pine wood table scored and rough, marked by Oscar's knives and cleaver, and now by her own set of knives. The middle is stained purple with beet juice. Some of the cuts are darker than others - old blood stains, and not from the meat, because he used a stone slab for that; it was on this table she cut her fingers more than once, where Rolf stabbed himself with a needle while trying to sew a chicken shut-- where Boyd accidentally sliced his fingers while cutting a peach.
He's outside splitting slim pine logs with a hatchet, trying his best to break them perfectly center so they'll fall to either side, and she sees the muscles in his back knot through the open window. Each strike echoes around the yard and into the kitchen, where she's peeling an apple with a dull knife, by feel. She can do it in an unbroken spiral if she pays attention, but apple peelings drop into her lap and gather on her apron, between her legs, and she keeps looking up to watch Boyd.
Rolf is still with them, and Titania, and Gatrie - even Shinon. But ever since Oscar and Ike left and the mercenaries were passed into her nominal control, this kitchen has been empty aside from Titania and the recruits she rounds up to carry food to the mess hall, and Boyd has gone out of his way to be strong, as if putting up a front is his job, not hers. Mist doesn't know how to tell him not to try so hard. She doesn't need someone who can bend steel bars with his teeth.
She finishes peeling the apples, slices them into rings. The strike of the hatchet on wood isn't that different from a sword cutting through leather armor. These sounds were in the background every day when they marched with Crimea and Begnion; Boyd and Ike chopped wood together, hunted, always tried to outdo each other. They sparred, when Soren wasn't there to drag Ike back to the command tent.
You don't need to fill Ike's shoes, she wants to tell him. If I wanted my brother, I would have followed him. Like Soren. Like a puppy, Boyd would say.
He knows, of course; he tries anyway, because he's the type that acts before he thinks, or at least runs his mouth before he can exercise better judgment. They'd had some spectacular fights over this very table on the matter of her cooking, and how many men Mist would take down with one pot of stew. She reminded him of it yesterday over a pot of hot chocolate - made for their anniversary, because her cake turned out badly.
But I like your cooking, he'd said. I was an idiot back then.
Liar, she said. But it made her smile.
.
By: Amber Michelle
Prompt: badass
Character(s): Mist, Boyd
Words: 494
For:
searains (original request post is here)......................................................
Mist sits on a stool at a pine wood table scored and rough, marked by Oscar's knives and cleaver, and now by her own set of knives. The middle is stained purple with beet juice. Some of the cuts are darker than others - old blood stains, and not from the meat, because he used a stone slab for that; it was on this table she cut her fingers more than once, where Rolf stabbed himself with a needle while trying to sew a chicken shut-- where Boyd accidentally sliced his fingers while cutting a peach.
He's outside splitting slim pine logs with a hatchet, trying his best to break them perfectly center so they'll fall to either side, and she sees the muscles in his back knot through the open window. Each strike echoes around the yard and into the kitchen, where she's peeling an apple with a dull knife, by feel. She can do it in an unbroken spiral if she pays attention, but apple peelings drop into her lap and gather on her apron, between her legs, and she keeps looking up to watch Boyd.
Rolf is still with them, and Titania, and Gatrie - even Shinon. But ever since Oscar and Ike left and the mercenaries were passed into her nominal control, this kitchen has been empty aside from Titania and the recruits she rounds up to carry food to the mess hall, and Boyd has gone out of his way to be strong, as if putting up a front is his job, not hers. Mist doesn't know how to tell him not to try so hard. She doesn't need someone who can bend steel bars with his teeth.
She finishes peeling the apples, slices them into rings. The strike of the hatchet on wood isn't that different from a sword cutting through leather armor. These sounds were in the background every day when they marched with Crimea and Begnion; Boyd and Ike chopped wood together, hunted, always tried to outdo each other. They sparred, when Soren wasn't there to drag Ike back to the command tent.
You don't need to fill Ike's shoes, she wants to tell him. If I wanted my brother, I would have followed him. Like Soren. Like a puppy, Boyd would say.
He knows, of course; he tries anyway, because he's the type that acts before he thinks, or at least runs his mouth before he can exercise better judgment. They'd had some spectacular fights over this very table on the matter of her cooking, and how many men Mist would take down with one pot of stew. She reminded him of it yesterday over a pot of hot chocolate - made for their anniversary, because her cake turned out badly.
But I like your cooking, he'd said. I was an idiot back then.
Liar, she said. But it made her smile.
.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2009-05-22 12:21 am (UTC)So uh.... since I can't seem to get a hold of you over aim, just IM me when I'm on? And sorry for the username, I haven't changed it since 6th grade.
no subject
Date: 2009-05-22 03:52 am (UTC)Before it was just going to be a modern!Zelgius flushing some guy's head for calling Sephiran names. :P
SEE. I er, forgot to turn it on today. Let me go do that.