Post by Tamari on Dec 2, 2012 13:36:37 GMT 10
Title: Old Habits
Rating: PG
Prompt: homecoming
Summary: Rispah doesn’t often come take trips, but when she does, she prefers a simple homecoming.
She let herself in through the back door, waving away the people who rushed to help her. Old habits died hard, and anyway, Rispah didn’t need anyone waiting on her hand and foot.
She was aware that she probably smelled like horse and dirt from her long ride. This was cemented when one of the servants gave her a skeptical but painfully polite look.
“Milady, would you care for me to draw you a bath?” the woman said.
“No,” Rispah said, “‘s all right. But could you grab my bags?”
The woman didn’t protest. She went outside and Rispah left the kitchen with a sigh of relief, rolling her shoulders back and arching her back until she heard a crack. She was getting old, she thought wryly, but still not too old to climb the many stairs at Trebond.
Two flights later, she pushed open the plain wooden door as softly as she could and crept inside the room. She set her lantern down on the dresser and started to change out of her travelling clothes.
“Hey there, stranger.” A soft voice came from behind her.
She yelped and whirled, but calmed down when she heard Coram’s slow chuckle and saw his grin.
“Coram,” she said, half-scolding, but her wide smile cancelled out her tone.
He opened his arms and she rushed into them, burrowing her face in his solid chest. He smelled nice, as usual, and she was sure she did not but he didn’t say anything.
“Missed you,” she said.
“Missed you too,” Coram said. He ran his hand over her tangled gray-red curls. “How was Jonthair’s knighting?”
“Sad,” she admitted. “Our babies are growing up. He says he missed you, you know, and wishes you could’ve been there.”
Coram sighed and she looked up at him.
“Me too,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re home.”
Rispah finished changing out of her travelling clothes very, very quickly.
Rating: PG
Prompt: homecoming
Summary: Rispah doesn’t often come take trips, but when she does, she prefers a simple homecoming.
She let herself in through the back door, waving away the people who rushed to help her. Old habits died hard, and anyway, Rispah didn’t need anyone waiting on her hand and foot.
She was aware that she probably smelled like horse and dirt from her long ride. This was cemented when one of the servants gave her a skeptical but painfully polite look.
“Milady, would you care for me to draw you a bath?” the woman said.
“No,” Rispah said, “‘s all right. But could you grab my bags?”
The woman didn’t protest. She went outside and Rispah left the kitchen with a sigh of relief, rolling her shoulders back and arching her back until she heard a crack. She was getting old, she thought wryly, but still not too old to climb the many stairs at Trebond.
Two flights later, she pushed open the plain wooden door as softly as she could and crept inside the room. She set her lantern down on the dresser and started to change out of her travelling clothes.
“Hey there, stranger.” A soft voice came from behind her.
She yelped and whirled, but calmed down when she heard Coram’s slow chuckle and saw his grin.
“Coram,” she said, half-scolding, but her wide smile cancelled out her tone.
He opened his arms and she rushed into them, burrowing her face in his solid chest. He smelled nice, as usual, and she was sure she did not but he didn’t say anything.
“Missed you,” she said.
“Missed you too,” Coram said. He ran his hand over her tangled gray-red curls. “How was Jonthair’s knighting?”
“Sad,” she admitted. “Our babies are growing up. He says he missed you, you know, and wishes you could’ve been there.”
Coram sighed and she looked up at him.
“Me too,” he said. “But I’m glad you’re home.”
Rispah finished changing out of her travelling clothes very, very quickly.