Post by journeycat on Apr 14, 2010 14:04:12 GMT 10
Title: A Taste of Freedom
Rating: G
Word Count: 362
Prompt: #26 Mirror
Summary: Keladry is her reflection, and she wants to taste what could have been.
-----
It started with a kiss.
That was arguable, when one thought about it—it could easily have started when the Tortallan delegation came to Carthak, led by the queen herself no less, to see the second son born to the Imperial Highnesses. Kalasin was proud when no tears fell when she laid eyes on the beautiful figure of her mother; she had grown strong over the years. Still, her hands trembled when she grasped Thayet’s.
Or it could have started when she caught glimpse of an unfamiliar and yet unmistakable woman striding confidently down the boat’s plank, sympathetically patting the arm of a very green Alanna. Tall, broad, and muscular, but undeniably female with her dreamer’s eyes, Kally had no problem recognizing Keladry, the girl who stole her dream.
But she had put that behind her. Lady Knight Kally was a phantom, and the here and now belonged to Empress Kalasin of Carthak.
She had expected to dislike her, really. So perhaps it even began when Keladry spoke to her, respectfully but not simpering. Roald liked her; he had jokingly suggested he marry her to Jonathan, who had choked on his soup and said quite strongly, No. And Kally saw why he enjoyed her company, she supposed—she was a girl but much more interested in the boyish things like weapons. It was a nice change from Kally’s ladies-in-waiting, who could list all the newish fashions in seven different countries but went blank when asked where the armory was.
They spoke of Faleron and told embarrassing stories about him—they both had quite a few. They both confessed to crushes on Nealan, and idolizing the Lioness. They both had blamed Jonathan at one point in their lives, and they both shunned convention. Soon they were simply Kally and Kel, and Fazia threw up her hands at her choice of company.
Still, Kally knew that it began with her—leaning in, touching lips to lips, seeing her own reflection in startled hazel eyes. Somewhere, in some other life, Kel was what Kally could have been, strong and independent of the ties of royalty. She wanted to taste Tortall one more time.
Rating: G
Word Count: 362
Prompt: #26 Mirror
Summary: Keladry is her reflection, and she wants to taste what could have been.
-----
It started with a kiss.
That was arguable, when one thought about it—it could easily have started when the Tortallan delegation came to Carthak, led by the queen herself no less, to see the second son born to the Imperial Highnesses. Kalasin was proud when no tears fell when she laid eyes on the beautiful figure of her mother; she had grown strong over the years. Still, her hands trembled when she grasped Thayet’s.
Or it could have started when she caught glimpse of an unfamiliar and yet unmistakable woman striding confidently down the boat’s plank, sympathetically patting the arm of a very green Alanna. Tall, broad, and muscular, but undeniably female with her dreamer’s eyes, Kally had no problem recognizing Keladry, the girl who stole her dream.
But she had put that behind her. Lady Knight Kally was a phantom, and the here and now belonged to Empress Kalasin of Carthak.
She had expected to dislike her, really. So perhaps it even began when Keladry spoke to her, respectfully but not simpering. Roald liked her; he had jokingly suggested he marry her to Jonathan, who had choked on his soup and said quite strongly, No. And Kally saw why he enjoyed her company, she supposed—she was a girl but much more interested in the boyish things like weapons. It was a nice change from Kally’s ladies-in-waiting, who could list all the newish fashions in seven different countries but went blank when asked where the armory was.
They spoke of Faleron and told embarrassing stories about him—they both had quite a few. They both confessed to crushes on Nealan, and idolizing the Lioness. They both had blamed Jonathan at one point in their lives, and they both shunned convention. Soon they were simply Kally and Kel, and Fazia threw up her hands at her choice of company.
Still, Kally knew that it began with her—leaning in, touching lips to lips, seeing her own reflection in startled hazel eyes. Somewhere, in some other life, Kel was what Kally could have been, strong and independent of the ties of royalty. She wanted to taste Tortall one more time.