Post by Elsceetaria on Dec 20, 2012 4:04:05 GMT 10
To: Hawksandfeathers
Message: Merry Ficmas! I hope you like this. The idea stuck with me, and evolved into this. It's not quite what you asked for in the dear author letter, but the plot bunny had already taken over. These characters were quite fun to work with. Again, I hope you like it.
From: Elscy
Title: Theatre Under the Stars
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 1149
Prompt: 5. Sandry's parents going out to the theatre
Summary: Sandry's parents going out to the theatre
Amiliane reached out and took her husband's hand. Her husband, she thought. It still surprised her to be able to think of him as such. They had been married for over a year now, but the novelty of it had not yet worn off. She thought that a good thing, for the greatest things in life were novel. Once things lost their novelty, it was usually time to let them go. She hoped Mattin never truly lost his novelty.
He squeezed her hand and asked, “Are you hot?”
“A little,” She admitted. She had ordered new clothing once they had arrived in this stifling city, but they had not been completed yet. The dress she was wearing tonight was lighter than most of her wardrobe, yet it had still been made in a climate where this heat could not be imagined.
“We are almost there. I'll buy you something to drink before the performance begins,” He replied.
The two walked hand-in-hand down the street. As they entered the arch marking the outside of the theater, Mattin plucked a flower from one of the vines creeping its way around the structure. Holding it out, he said, “A rose for my rose?”
“Certainly, my lord,” She curtseyed and reached for it, but before she was able to get it, he tucked it behind her ear. Smiling he stepped back and bowed then laughed, “My lady.”
“I do not actually believe that lord and lady are the correct titles.”
“But you are my wife, and thus, you will always be my lady.”
“And you my lord.”
“Come then, and I shall buy you some wine,” Mattin said leading Amiliane towards a stall near the seats, “It will be just the thing to cool you off.”
Amiliane took the proffered wine and took a little sip. It was a poor wine, and she'd likely have a headache in the morning. It did, however, work to cool her off. Feeling a tad relieved, she began to seer Mattin to the seats pausing to take the program offered by a young player. The theater was large for an outdoor arena, but not too large. Posts along the outside perimeter were set up to allow for a tent in case of rain. Tonight, however, was a beautiful night, so the ceiling was left bare. The stars shown bright providing extra light to the stage.
The play began telling the tale of a young maid who married the prince. Amiliane thought it ridiculous. Surely, she could be his mistress and sire his bastards, but what royal family would accept a commoner so close to the throne. Mattin found it quite romantic. They both thought the actors were quite good. When the two finally kissed at the end of the play, Mattin squeezed her hand. She looked over and smiled. She whispered, “I have something to tell you.”
As the players took their final bow, the two stood to applaud. Then as was the custom in this land, the players departed the stage and began to mull with the audience in hopes of earning a little more from the show. Amiliane and Mattin, however, cared little about giving extra to the players. After all, they had paid the cost of the show. As an acrobat stood in the aisle holding the hat she had removed from her head, Amiliane scowled. The woman could at least have gotten a fresh hat. This one was plastered with sweat, and the player didn't look much better. Sweat had plastered her black hair to her face, and she was breathing heavily. Amiliane pushed her way through muttering, “Excuse me.”
Mattin was not quite so heartless. He dropped a small coin into the woman's hat, and said, “Good show.”
As he walked up to join his wife, she turned to him and asked, “Why did you do that?”
“Why shouldn't I? She did a good job.”
“Exactly, she did a good job at her job. We had already paid her when we bought our tickets.”
“Yes, but Ami you know they likely pay them slave wages.”
“Slaves do not get wages.”
“You are correct. Perhaps, I should have said something else, but it was a good show. Plus, she will probably be looking for different work soon. If my coin can make a difference, then should I not?”
“What do you mean looking for new work?” She asked ignoring his question.
He replied, “Her breathing was bad. If she can't find a healer who can fix it, she will be doing something different soon.”
“I'm sure she'll find a healer if it's that serious. Come let us buy dinner.”
Knowing the conversation was done if not finished, Mattin led her to a nearby eating house. It was not the worst they had ever eaten at, but it was not the best either. The two were able to get a private table near a window and away from the kitchen. The food was simple, but the rice and meat stew proved to be good. Alternating the spicy stew with a passable wine, the two made small talk discussing the finer points of the play. Neither of them mentioned the acrobat. As the meal was winding down, Mattin remembered what Amiliane had said as the couple had kissed. He stated, “I believe you had something to tell me.”
She replied, “Yes, I do, but this is not the place. I'll tell you when we get home.”
Home he thought was a set of rented rooms in a nicer part of the city. He enjoyed travel, but he didn't think he would ever think of these rented places as home. He wasn't even sure home was a physical place anymore. For him, home would always be a person. Amiliane may think of these rented places as temporary homes, but she was his home.
Understanding that the meal was ending, he walked around to her chair, taking his hand as she got up. Kissing her hand, he said, “Come then, let us go home.”
The two maneuvered their way through the city hand-in-hand. Every so often, she would pull him along towards a cart or store where something had caught her eye. Eventually, the two reached the rooms, and she broke away from him aching to undo the ties on her dress. He, however, caught her hand, and used his other to awkwardly undo the ties himself. He did not forget that she had something to tell him. As he fumbled with laces, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle, then met his eyes. Dying from the anticipation, he asked her once again, “What do you have to tell me?”
Smiling, she simply stated, “Oh Matti, I saw a healer today. It seems that I am with child.”
Message: Merry Ficmas! I hope you like this. The idea stuck with me, and evolved into this. It's not quite what you asked for in the dear author letter, but the plot bunny had already taken over. These characters were quite fun to work with. Again, I hope you like it.
From: Elscy
Title: Theatre Under the Stars
Rating: Pg-13
Word Count: 1149
Prompt: 5. Sandry's parents going out to the theatre
Summary: Sandry's parents going out to the theatre
Amiliane reached out and took her husband's hand. Her husband, she thought. It still surprised her to be able to think of him as such. They had been married for over a year now, but the novelty of it had not yet worn off. She thought that a good thing, for the greatest things in life were novel. Once things lost their novelty, it was usually time to let them go. She hoped Mattin never truly lost his novelty.
He squeezed her hand and asked, “Are you hot?”
“A little,” She admitted. She had ordered new clothing once they had arrived in this stifling city, but they had not been completed yet. The dress she was wearing tonight was lighter than most of her wardrobe, yet it had still been made in a climate where this heat could not be imagined.
“We are almost there. I'll buy you something to drink before the performance begins,” He replied.
The two walked hand-in-hand down the street. As they entered the arch marking the outside of the theater, Mattin plucked a flower from one of the vines creeping its way around the structure. Holding it out, he said, “A rose for my rose?”
“Certainly, my lord,” She curtseyed and reached for it, but before she was able to get it, he tucked it behind her ear. Smiling he stepped back and bowed then laughed, “My lady.”
“I do not actually believe that lord and lady are the correct titles.”
“But you are my wife, and thus, you will always be my lady.”
“And you my lord.”
“Come then, and I shall buy you some wine,” Mattin said leading Amiliane towards a stall near the seats, “It will be just the thing to cool you off.”
Amiliane took the proffered wine and took a little sip. It was a poor wine, and she'd likely have a headache in the morning. It did, however, work to cool her off. Feeling a tad relieved, she began to seer Mattin to the seats pausing to take the program offered by a young player. The theater was large for an outdoor arena, but not too large. Posts along the outside perimeter were set up to allow for a tent in case of rain. Tonight, however, was a beautiful night, so the ceiling was left bare. The stars shown bright providing extra light to the stage.
The play began telling the tale of a young maid who married the prince. Amiliane thought it ridiculous. Surely, she could be his mistress and sire his bastards, but what royal family would accept a commoner so close to the throne. Mattin found it quite romantic. They both thought the actors were quite good. When the two finally kissed at the end of the play, Mattin squeezed her hand. She looked over and smiled. She whispered, “I have something to tell you.”
As the players took their final bow, the two stood to applaud. Then as was the custom in this land, the players departed the stage and began to mull with the audience in hopes of earning a little more from the show. Amiliane and Mattin, however, cared little about giving extra to the players. After all, they had paid the cost of the show. As an acrobat stood in the aisle holding the hat she had removed from her head, Amiliane scowled. The woman could at least have gotten a fresh hat. This one was plastered with sweat, and the player didn't look much better. Sweat had plastered her black hair to her face, and she was breathing heavily. Amiliane pushed her way through muttering, “Excuse me.”
Mattin was not quite so heartless. He dropped a small coin into the woman's hat, and said, “Good show.”
As he walked up to join his wife, she turned to him and asked, “Why did you do that?”
“Why shouldn't I? She did a good job.”
“Exactly, she did a good job at her job. We had already paid her when we bought our tickets.”
“Yes, but Ami you know they likely pay them slave wages.”
“Slaves do not get wages.”
“You are correct. Perhaps, I should have said something else, but it was a good show. Plus, she will probably be looking for different work soon. If my coin can make a difference, then should I not?”
“What do you mean looking for new work?” She asked ignoring his question.
He replied, “Her breathing was bad. If she can't find a healer who can fix it, she will be doing something different soon.”
“I'm sure she'll find a healer if it's that serious. Come let us buy dinner.”
Knowing the conversation was done if not finished, Mattin led her to a nearby eating house. It was not the worst they had ever eaten at, but it was not the best either. The two were able to get a private table near a window and away from the kitchen. The food was simple, but the rice and meat stew proved to be good. Alternating the spicy stew with a passable wine, the two made small talk discussing the finer points of the play. Neither of them mentioned the acrobat. As the meal was winding down, Mattin remembered what Amiliane had said as the couple had kissed. He stated, “I believe you had something to tell me.”
She replied, “Yes, I do, but this is not the place. I'll tell you when we get home.”
Home he thought was a set of rented rooms in a nicer part of the city. He enjoyed travel, but he didn't think he would ever think of these rented places as home. He wasn't even sure home was a physical place anymore. For him, home would always be a person. Amiliane may think of these rented places as temporary homes, but she was his home.
Understanding that the meal was ending, he walked around to her chair, taking his hand as she got up. Kissing her hand, he said, “Come then, let us go home.”
The two maneuvered their way through the city hand-in-hand. Every so often, she would pull him along towards a cart or store where something had caught her eye. Eventually, the two reached the rooms, and she broke away from him aching to undo the ties on her dress. He, however, caught her hand, and used his other to awkwardly undo the ties himself. He did not forget that she had something to tell him. As he fumbled with laces, he brought her hand up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle, then met his eyes. Dying from the anticipation, he asked her once again, “What do you have to tell me?”
Smiling, she simply stated, “Oh Matti, I saw a healer today. It seems that I am with child.”