Post by Lisa on Dec 14, 2009 10:34:50 GMT 10
Title: Snowfall
Prompt #13 – Snowflakes
Summary: Margarry reminds Owen how jolly the Midwinter week can be.
“This might be your last night wearing Cavall white,” Margarry said, smiling up at Owen. He really did look nice in his fine tunic, with braided gold piping. The black Cavall dog, rearing with a sword in its paws, was stitched over his heart. “I bet the Jesslaw colors will suit you better, though.”
“The queen drew names earlier this evening. My Ordeal is first.”
“So this is your last free evening as a squire. What is your last wish, Squire Owen?”
“I was thinking of asking you to dance,” he said, nodding toward the center of the ballroom, where plenty of couples – including the king and queen – were lining up for the first minuet.
“I would accept,” she teased, “but I have a better idea. Come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him toward a door to the servants’ hall.
“Uh, I don’t think Lord Wyldon will—”
“He won’t be your knight-master any longer,” she said with a wicked laugh.
“He can still kill me!”
But she had made sure her father was pre-occupied. She had seen him among the dancers, with her mother. “Just come with me.”
She led him through the doorway and into the servants’ passage. In a normal year there would have been squires running through the halls along with the scarlet-clad palace servants, but the only squires in the capital were the ones who were awaiting their Ordeals.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, his voice uneasy.
“To your Midwinter gift,” she responded with a laugh. She sped up – they were almost running through the halls – and darted into the kitchen. The cooks hissed and called out threats as they ran through, but Margarry still laughed as she dragged Owen behind her. She grabbed one of the many cloaks from the hooks, ignoring the protests of its owner. “I promise to bring it back!” she called out jovially over her shoulder
They burst through the kitchen door, finding themselves in the cold kitchen garden. It was blanketed in snow.
Once the cloak was wrapped around her she knelt down, scooping up a handful a snow. Packing it carefully in her hands, she turned to Owen. He was staring up at the sky as snow fell onto his face.
“You haven’t had a chance to appreciate a simple snowfall, have you?” she asked, continuing to pack the ball of snow between her hands.
“I’m too busy trying to predict how the snow will change the enemy’s maneuvers. Looking for hoof-prints, trying to erase my own tracks.” He continued to stare up at the mass of swirling snowflakes above him. “I’d forgotten to stop and enjoy it.”
“It’s a travesty that war has to take all the jolliness out of life,” Margarry said. When he looked at her, she flung the snowball at him. It smacked him on the shoulder. She laughed wickedly and danced away from him.
“Oh, is this your gift?” Owen cried, picking up a handful of snow in his own hands.
But Margarry was a smart girl; she knew that Owen’s strength and accuracy would be far better than hers, after eight years of training with her father. So she rushed at him, catching him off-guard and knocking him into a snowdrift. She tumbled down after him.
He yelped at such cold, pushing her off of him. “That’s just cruel!” He cried, leaning up onto his elbows.
She lay on her back, giggling as she stared into the night sky and the dizzying sight of so many snowflakes falling. “Your life as a knight will be a cruel and harsh one,” she replied with a smile. “I’m preparing you!”
He leaned over her, his grey eyes boring into her own. He moved toward her and their lips touched lightly – the barest whisper of a kiss.
They had kissed only once before, and nearly three years had passed since then. She had forgotten the immediate sensation, but always remembered the way her entire body suddenly felt alive.
His free hand suddenly smashed a snowball against her forehead. “I learned that one from the Scanrans, you know.” He scrambled away from her as fast as he could, laughing.
Prompt #13 – Snowflakes
Summary: Margarry reminds Owen how jolly the Midwinter week can be.
“This might be your last night wearing Cavall white,” Margarry said, smiling up at Owen. He really did look nice in his fine tunic, with braided gold piping. The black Cavall dog, rearing with a sword in its paws, was stitched over his heart. “I bet the Jesslaw colors will suit you better, though.”
“The queen drew names earlier this evening. My Ordeal is first.”
“So this is your last free evening as a squire. What is your last wish, Squire Owen?”
“I was thinking of asking you to dance,” he said, nodding toward the center of the ballroom, where plenty of couples – including the king and queen – were lining up for the first minuet.
“I would accept,” she teased, “but I have a better idea. Come with me.” She took his hand and pulled him toward a door to the servants’ hall.
“Uh, I don’t think Lord Wyldon will—”
“He won’t be your knight-master any longer,” she said with a wicked laugh.
“He can still kill me!”
But she had made sure her father was pre-occupied. She had seen him among the dancers, with her mother. “Just come with me.”
She led him through the doorway and into the servants’ passage. In a normal year there would have been squires running through the halls along with the scarlet-clad palace servants, but the only squires in the capital were the ones who were awaiting their Ordeals.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked, his voice uneasy.
“To your Midwinter gift,” she responded with a laugh. She sped up – they were almost running through the halls – and darted into the kitchen. The cooks hissed and called out threats as they ran through, but Margarry still laughed as she dragged Owen behind her. She grabbed one of the many cloaks from the hooks, ignoring the protests of its owner. “I promise to bring it back!” she called out jovially over her shoulder
They burst through the kitchen door, finding themselves in the cold kitchen garden. It was blanketed in snow.
Once the cloak was wrapped around her she knelt down, scooping up a handful a snow. Packing it carefully in her hands, she turned to Owen. He was staring up at the sky as snow fell onto his face.
“You haven’t had a chance to appreciate a simple snowfall, have you?” she asked, continuing to pack the ball of snow between her hands.
“I’m too busy trying to predict how the snow will change the enemy’s maneuvers. Looking for hoof-prints, trying to erase my own tracks.” He continued to stare up at the mass of swirling snowflakes above him. “I’d forgotten to stop and enjoy it.”
“It’s a travesty that war has to take all the jolliness out of life,” Margarry said. When he looked at her, she flung the snowball at him. It smacked him on the shoulder. She laughed wickedly and danced away from him.
“Oh, is this your gift?” Owen cried, picking up a handful of snow in his own hands.
But Margarry was a smart girl; she knew that Owen’s strength and accuracy would be far better than hers, after eight years of training with her father. So she rushed at him, catching him off-guard and knocking him into a snowdrift. She tumbled down after him.
He yelped at such cold, pushing her off of him. “That’s just cruel!” He cried, leaning up onto his elbows.
She lay on her back, giggling as she stared into the night sky and the dizzying sight of so many snowflakes falling. “Your life as a knight will be a cruel and harsh one,” she replied with a smile. “I’m preparing you!”
He leaned over her, his grey eyes boring into her own. He moved toward her and their lips touched lightly – the barest whisper of a kiss.
They had kissed only once before, and nearly three years had passed since then. She had forgotten the immediate sensation, but always remembered the way her entire body suddenly felt alive.
His free hand suddenly smashed a snowball against her forehead. “I learned that one from the Scanrans, you know.” He scrambled away from her as fast as he could, laughing.