Post by aurorax on Jun 16, 2009 3:49:51 GMT 10
Title: Burning
Rating: PG
Prompt: #4, Food
Word Count: 250
Summary: Roald and Shinko's wedding- because it must be ultra depressing to get married while your friends are off fighting a war.
AN: I don’t know if the timeline is correct here, or how accurately we know specific dates, so I’m sorry if this is implausible, it works in my head if you consider the celebrations after the wedding lasting a little over a month.
There were mountains of food everywhere, piled high on the straining tables. The smell of opulence alone was enough to turn his stomach, grown accustomed to plain hearty fare. But no amount of excess could distract the eye from what was missing, all the sparkle and gold making the room a gilded jewelry box full of worthless trinkets.
When the dancing started, the lack was even more noticeable, women wandering around helplessly carrying plates of dainty sweets for something to do with their hands. But Master Oakbridge had insisted on maintaining tradition, and he had cared too little to argue.
Now, releasing his new wife’s hand to dance with the maid of honor, who should have been entwined in a different set of arms, he regretted not putting up a fight. At least it would have been fighting for something.
When the few whirling couples on the dance floor began to blur into enemy soldiers before his eyes, he finally gave up all pretence of decorum and excused himself, striding into the warm clear night.
There were flickering spots of light in the distance; could they be funeral pyres? Normally he was haunted by images of his friends burning, the ribbons of smoke and final words of blessing slowly fading away. But now he knew better- deep in enemy country, their bodies would be honored by none but the Stormwings.
His wife found him on the north-facing balcony, gazing out at the stars with eyes that were not his own.
Rating: PG
Prompt: #4, Food
Word Count: 250
Summary: Roald and Shinko's wedding- because it must be ultra depressing to get married while your friends are off fighting a war.
AN: I don’t know if the timeline is correct here, or how accurately we know specific dates, so I’m sorry if this is implausible, it works in my head if you consider the celebrations after the wedding lasting a little over a month.
There were mountains of food everywhere, piled high on the straining tables. The smell of opulence alone was enough to turn his stomach, grown accustomed to plain hearty fare. But no amount of excess could distract the eye from what was missing, all the sparkle and gold making the room a gilded jewelry box full of worthless trinkets.
When the dancing started, the lack was even more noticeable, women wandering around helplessly carrying plates of dainty sweets for something to do with their hands. But Master Oakbridge had insisted on maintaining tradition, and he had cared too little to argue.
Now, releasing his new wife’s hand to dance with the maid of honor, who should have been entwined in a different set of arms, he regretted not putting up a fight. At least it would have been fighting for something.
When the few whirling couples on the dance floor began to blur into enemy soldiers before his eyes, he finally gave up all pretence of decorum and excused himself, striding into the warm clear night.
There were flickering spots of light in the distance; could they be funeral pyres? Normally he was haunted by images of his friends burning, the ribbons of smoke and final words of blessing slowly fading away. But now he knew better- deep in enemy country, their bodies would be honored by none but the Stormwings.
His wife found him on the north-facing balcony, gazing out at the stars with eyes that were not his own.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!