Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 18, 2017 11:12:18 GMT 10
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2027
Summary: Kally, Roald, and the stars that shine down on them from Midwinter to Midwinter.
Warnings: Some acts of a sexual nature.
Notes: Inspired by Tamari's "Starry Nights" prompt.
Dedication: For Tamari in thanks for the prompt.
Star of Wonder
Star of Wonder
Perched like a pair of turtledoves on the cushioned window seat of the royal nursery, Roald and his sister Kally stared out the glass—their breath misting the pane—looking for the first star of the night so they could wish on it. Tomorrow was the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, and the designated day for exchanging gifts during the week long holiday of Midwinter.
For a month, Roald had been counting down the days, and tomorrow he would finally find out if he would get what he had wanted for what felt like all year. At six, part of Roald was old enough to know that wishing on the first star of the night was useless—his parents had either already bought him the present he wanted or they hadn’t and no wish on a star could change that—but the bigger part of him still wanted to believe in wishes coming true, especially for Midwinter.
“There’s the first star!” Kally pointed eagerly at a silver shimmer that her sharp eyes had picked up in the corner of the darkening sky. “Make a wish, Roald.”
Roald closed his eyes, focused his mind, and wished with all his heart that Kally would get the pony she wanted. A five-year-old bundle of energy, Kally was confident that she was old enough to ride a pony, but Roald wasn’t convinced that their parents thought the same way. Roald didn’t want to see the disappointment in his sister’s eyes if she didn’t receive her longed for pony.
Kally, who had also squeezed her eyes shut to make a wish on the star, asked as she opened them, “What did you wish for, Roald?”
“You aren’t supposed to share your wish with anyone, Kally,” Roald reminded her, gaze serious, “or else it won’t come true.”
“Smelly goose poop.” Kally nudged him. “That doesn’t count for us. We’re almost the same person, we don’t keep secrets from each other, and we just want one another’s wishes to come true. That’s why I wished for you. I wished that you’d get the tin toy soldiers that you wanted all year. There. Now I told you what I wished for, so you have to tell me, or else you aren’t being fair.”
Kally finished with a pout that made it impossible for Roald to refuse. Smiling slightly, he said, “I wished for you too, Kally. I wished that you’d get your pony.”
“I’ll always wish for you, and you’ll always wish for me.” Kally held out her pinky in a sign that she expected them to make a pledge. “Promise?”
“Promise,” agreed Roald, twisting his small finger around her even tinier one. “We’ll always wish for each other, no matter how big we get or far apart we are.”
Star of Night
Eleven short years later, they were both betrothed—Kally to the Carthaki emperor she could only pray to the Goddess wasn’t as tyrannical as the last and Roald to the Yamani princess he hoped he was falling in love with (and Kally wished that he was, wanting nothing but the best for her big brother, as she always would)—and standing on a cold balcony to breathe fresh air away from the stuffiness of the Midwinter party in the ballroom behind them. Strands of music, the patter of dancing feet, and the high-pitched laughter that accompanied gossip and politicking echoed in Kally’s eardrums as she stared up at the stars that shone like the diamonds stitched into the velvet gown the Countess of King’s Reach had commissioned especially for this Midwinter extravaganza. The Countess of King’s Reach, Kally had learned over the years spent in her guardianship, believed in forever looking her best, which to her meant wearing a jewelry box on every dress.
“A shooting star.” Roald’s fingers traced the fiery path of a plummeting star Kally knew wasn’t truly a star, after all. “Make a wish, Kally.”
Kally’s eyes riveted on the streaking light of the shooting star, wishing on a lie, as she told Roald, because they never kept their wishes secret from one another, “I wished that all your dreams would come true and that all your nightmares wouldn’t.”
“I wished that you’d fall in love with your emperor, and he would love you the way you deserve to be loved.” Roald leaned close to whisper this in Kally’s ear, his breath warming her frigid skin, even though they were alone on the balcony.
Shivering, Kally thought that it was appropriate that they had a tradition of wishing for one another since nobody else ever seemed to truly wish for what was best for them. Mama and Papa claimed they did, but Kally was ten when that illusion snapped, and she had realized that they wanted what was best for their country, which wasn’t the same as what was best for their children. To Mama and Papa, children could be sacrificed on the altar of politics, and that was called duty. To everybody else, the Conte children were pieces to be manipulated on a chessboard, royalty to be flattered or reviled, allies or foes in the war of words and wills at court, and generally to be used for the courtier’s advantage.
It was fitting that she and Roald were on the balcony together tonight because in many way they were all one another had, each the only one the other could rely on in a vicious world of political maneuvering they had been thrust into since birth.
Star with Royal Beauty Bright
Roald’s wish for her had come true, Kally thought as she stood on a terrace in Carthak on a balmy Midwinter night, but her passion for her husband didn’t stop her heart from aching when she imagined what it would be like to skate on the frozen Olorun in Corus. She would’ve surrendered the title of Empress just to return to her home and skate with her siblings one more time, but her home was supposed to be in Carthak with Kaddar now.
She had written the obligatory cheery holiday cards to her family in Tortall, sending them warm Midwinter greetings from the land where palm fronds sway. Only Roald had seen through her bravado to the loneliness even her husband couldn’t fill. He had a snow globe delivered to her from a merchant ship out of Port Legann (which Kally took as an indication that he was spending Midwinter with his former knightmaster) with a letter assuring her that all she had to do was shake it to have a white Midwinter. She had shaken her snow globe many times since it arrived and watched the white flakes cover the village encased in the glass. It didn’t diminish her desire for snow but it did make her feel as if her older brother were beside her, and that was more comforting than a white Midwinter.
Still, it was hard not to long for snow despite the sweet scent of flowering vines woven around the terrace’s pillars, the verdant potted plants adorning the balustrade, and the blooming cacti in urns on the stone floor of the terrace. All the blossoming green life around her was a testament to her husband tending it tenderly with what little Gift he possessed. Kaddar only used his Gift to create beauty, Kally had noticed, and it had been his love of plants that had first allowed Kally to see beyond his hauteur to his innate compassion for all that lived.
“It was your passion for plants that let me fall in love with you, Kaddar,” she murmured, tilting her head against his broad shoulder. As he combed through her hair with his hands, she went on, “Seeing the gentleness you showed them made me recognize that you had to be kind if you lavished such love on small things.”
“Ozorne lavished love on his blighted birds.” Kaddar’s fingers tightened in her hair. “He cared more about them than he ever did about the people he ruled. He was a paranoid tyrant whose only good side was that he treated his birds nicely.”
“That’s not you, Kaddar.” Kally spoke to her husband’s unexpressed but ever present fear of becoming his monstrous uncle. “You care about your people even more than your plants.”
“It’s Midwinter, Kally.” Kaddar trailed hot kisses along Kally’s neck. “I don’t want to ruin the holiday by talking about Ozorne.”
“You brought him up.” Kally gasped as Kaddar’s lips crossed over her collarbone. “Not me.”
“I brought him up, and now I’m done discussing him.” Kaddar’s mouth drifted up Kally’s throat, traveling toward her lips. “Let’s admire the stars instead.”
“The stars are beautiful but strange.” Kally gazed up at the constellations with names and patterns she was still struggling to learn. “We have different ones in Tortall.”
“Since you came to Carthak, the stars have shone brighter.” In a swift motion that left Kally flushing and breathless, Kaddar swept her off her feet into his strong arms, carrying her into their chambers as he had on their wedding night when he had placed her on their bed. This time he didn’t have the patience to bring her that far. Laying her down on the sofa by the terrace doors, he kicked the doors shut and slipped the purple string sleeves of the thin silk nightdress Kally wore off her shoulders, baring her body.
As he cupped her breasts, fingers flicking across her stiffening nipples in a way that made every nerve in her tingle, she said between the kisses Kaddar landed on her lips, “I thought you wanted to admire the stars.”
“I do.” Kaddar’s palms stroked down her sensitive stomach until his fingers slid into the dampness between her legs. “The only stars worth admiring are the ones burning in your eyes and hair. You’re the only star I see, Kally.”
Guide Us to Thy Perfect Light
“It was kind of Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle to invite us to stay with them for Midwinter.” Shinko’s words, whispered into the shell of his ear, as they lay on a plaid blanket on the Legann beach while the last light of the sun faded from the horizon, were intended for Roald alone.
Torches flamed red around them, casting crimson shadows over Lord Imrah’s and his son Sir Emeric’s furrowed brows as they waged war on a chessboard, dancing with Lord Imrah’s daughters Julienne and Mathilde as they competed in charades with Sir Emeric’s squire Thomsen of Trebond, and crackling in harmony to the carols Lady Marielle was playing on her lute. In the south, Midwinter was a holiday for quiet rejoicing and reflection with family, and not an excuse for the elaborate balls and feasts customary in the north. Roald might have been in Corus with his own family if traveling that far on wintry roads didn’t feel like a dereliction of his duties as governor in the south, but Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle were almost a second set of parents to him.
“Since I was fourteen, they’ve been kind to me.” Roald thought that kind was rather a weak word to describe what Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle had been to him since he started squiring for Lord Imrah, but he couldn’t find a stronger one. To distract himself from the inadequacies of his language skills, he stared out at the sky over the waving ocean and saw the twinkle of the first star of the night.
Drawing Shinko against his chest so that her head was nestled beneath his chin, he pointed out the star and commented, “When we were little, Kally and I used to wish on the first star we saw in the evening.”
“Wishes are powerful so we must be careful what we wish for, Roald.” Shinko gazed at the star as she slipped soft fingers around his hand. “I will wish for love and happiness for you.”
“I’m happy because I love you.” Roald brushed Shinko’s curtain of ink-black hair away from her smooth cheek so he could kiss it. “You’re my love and happiness, Shinko.”
Word Count: 2027
Summary: Kally, Roald, and the stars that shine down on them from Midwinter to Midwinter.
Warnings: Some acts of a sexual nature.
Notes: Inspired by Tamari's "Starry Nights" prompt.
Dedication: For Tamari in thanks for the prompt.
Star of Wonder
Star of Wonder
Perched like a pair of turtledoves on the cushioned window seat of the royal nursery, Roald and his sister Kally stared out the glass—their breath misting the pane—looking for the first star of the night so they could wish on it. Tomorrow was the winter solstice, the longest night of the year, and the designated day for exchanging gifts during the week long holiday of Midwinter.
For a month, Roald had been counting down the days, and tomorrow he would finally find out if he would get what he had wanted for what felt like all year. At six, part of Roald was old enough to know that wishing on the first star of the night was useless—his parents had either already bought him the present he wanted or they hadn’t and no wish on a star could change that—but the bigger part of him still wanted to believe in wishes coming true, especially for Midwinter.
“There’s the first star!” Kally pointed eagerly at a silver shimmer that her sharp eyes had picked up in the corner of the darkening sky. “Make a wish, Roald.”
Roald closed his eyes, focused his mind, and wished with all his heart that Kally would get the pony she wanted. A five-year-old bundle of energy, Kally was confident that she was old enough to ride a pony, but Roald wasn’t convinced that their parents thought the same way. Roald didn’t want to see the disappointment in his sister’s eyes if she didn’t receive her longed for pony.
Kally, who had also squeezed her eyes shut to make a wish on the star, asked as she opened them, “What did you wish for, Roald?”
“You aren’t supposed to share your wish with anyone, Kally,” Roald reminded her, gaze serious, “or else it won’t come true.”
“Smelly goose poop.” Kally nudged him. “That doesn’t count for us. We’re almost the same person, we don’t keep secrets from each other, and we just want one another’s wishes to come true. That’s why I wished for you. I wished that you’d get the tin toy soldiers that you wanted all year. There. Now I told you what I wished for, so you have to tell me, or else you aren’t being fair.”
Kally finished with a pout that made it impossible for Roald to refuse. Smiling slightly, he said, “I wished for you too, Kally. I wished that you’d get your pony.”
“I’ll always wish for you, and you’ll always wish for me.” Kally held out her pinky in a sign that she expected them to make a pledge. “Promise?”
“Promise,” agreed Roald, twisting his small finger around her even tinier one. “We’ll always wish for each other, no matter how big we get or far apart we are.”
Star of Night
Eleven short years later, they were both betrothed—Kally to the Carthaki emperor she could only pray to the Goddess wasn’t as tyrannical as the last and Roald to the Yamani princess he hoped he was falling in love with (and Kally wished that he was, wanting nothing but the best for her big brother, as she always would)—and standing on a cold balcony to breathe fresh air away from the stuffiness of the Midwinter party in the ballroom behind them. Strands of music, the patter of dancing feet, and the high-pitched laughter that accompanied gossip and politicking echoed in Kally’s eardrums as she stared up at the stars that shone like the diamonds stitched into the velvet gown the Countess of King’s Reach had commissioned especially for this Midwinter extravaganza. The Countess of King’s Reach, Kally had learned over the years spent in her guardianship, believed in forever looking her best, which to her meant wearing a jewelry box on every dress.
“A shooting star.” Roald’s fingers traced the fiery path of a plummeting star Kally knew wasn’t truly a star, after all. “Make a wish, Kally.”
Kally’s eyes riveted on the streaking light of the shooting star, wishing on a lie, as she told Roald, because they never kept their wishes secret from one another, “I wished that all your dreams would come true and that all your nightmares wouldn’t.”
“I wished that you’d fall in love with your emperor, and he would love you the way you deserve to be loved.” Roald leaned close to whisper this in Kally’s ear, his breath warming her frigid skin, even though they were alone on the balcony.
Shivering, Kally thought that it was appropriate that they had a tradition of wishing for one another since nobody else ever seemed to truly wish for what was best for them. Mama and Papa claimed they did, but Kally was ten when that illusion snapped, and she had realized that they wanted what was best for their country, which wasn’t the same as what was best for their children. To Mama and Papa, children could be sacrificed on the altar of politics, and that was called duty. To everybody else, the Conte children were pieces to be manipulated on a chessboard, royalty to be flattered or reviled, allies or foes in the war of words and wills at court, and generally to be used for the courtier’s advantage.
It was fitting that she and Roald were on the balcony together tonight because in many way they were all one another had, each the only one the other could rely on in a vicious world of political maneuvering they had been thrust into since birth.
Star with Royal Beauty Bright
Roald’s wish for her had come true, Kally thought as she stood on a terrace in Carthak on a balmy Midwinter night, but her passion for her husband didn’t stop her heart from aching when she imagined what it would be like to skate on the frozen Olorun in Corus. She would’ve surrendered the title of Empress just to return to her home and skate with her siblings one more time, but her home was supposed to be in Carthak with Kaddar now.
She had written the obligatory cheery holiday cards to her family in Tortall, sending them warm Midwinter greetings from the land where palm fronds sway. Only Roald had seen through her bravado to the loneliness even her husband couldn’t fill. He had a snow globe delivered to her from a merchant ship out of Port Legann (which Kally took as an indication that he was spending Midwinter with his former knightmaster) with a letter assuring her that all she had to do was shake it to have a white Midwinter. She had shaken her snow globe many times since it arrived and watched the white flakes cover the village encased in the glass. It didn’t diminish her desire for snow but it did make her feel as if her older brother were beside her, and that was more comforting than a white Midwinter.
Still, it was hard not to long for snow despite the sweet scent of flowering vines woven around the terrace’s pillars, the verdant potted plants adorning the balustrade, and the blooming cacti in urns on the stone floor of the terrace. All the blossoming green life around her was a testament to her husband tending it tenderly with what little Gift he possessed. Kaddar only used his Gift to create beauty, Kally had noticed, and it had been his love of plants that had first allowed Kally to see beyond his hauteur to his innate compassion for all that lived.
“It was your passion for plants that let me fall in love with you, Kaddar,” she murmured, tilting her head against his broad shoulder. As he combed through her hair with his hands, she went on, “Seeing the gentleness you showed them made me recognize that you had to be kind if you lavished such love on small things.”
“Ozorne lavished love on his blighted birds.” Kaddar’s fingers tightened in her hair. “He cared more about them than he ever did about the people he ruled. He was a paranoid tyrant whose only good side was that he treated his birds nicely.”
“That’s not you, Kaddar.” Kally spoke to her husband’s unexpressed but ever present fear of becoming his monstrous uncle. “You care about your people even more than your plants.”
“It’s Midwinter, Kally.” Kaddar trailed hot kisses along Kally’s neck. “I don’t want to ruin the holiday by talking about Ozorne.”
“You brought him up.” Kally gasped as Kaddar’s lips crossed over her collarbone. “Not me.”
“I brought him up, and now I’m done discussing him.” Kaddar’s mouth drifted up Kally’s throat, traveling toward her lips. “Let’s admire the stars instead.”
“The stars are beautiful but strange.” Kally gazed up at the constellations with names and patterns she was still struggling to learn. “We have different ones in Tortall.”
“Since you came to Carthak, the stars have shone brighter.” In a swift motion that left Kally flushing and breathless, Kaddar swept her off her feet into his strong arms, carrying her into their chambers as he had on their wedding night when he had placed her on their bed. This time he didn’t have the patience to bring her that far. Laying her down on the sofa by the terrace doors, he kicked the doors shut and slipped the purple string sleeves of the thin silk nightdress Kally wore off her shoulders, baring her body.
As he cupped her breasts, fingers flicking across her stiffening nipples in a way that made every nerve in her tingle, she said between the kisses Kaddar landed on her lips, “I thought you wanted to admire the stars.”
“I do.” Kaddar’s palms stroked down her sensitive stomach until his fingers slid into the dampness between her legs. “The only stars worth admiring are the ones burning in your eyes and hair. You’re the only star I see, Kally.”
Guide Us to Thy Perfect Light
“It was kind of Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle to invite us to stay with them for Midwinter.” Shinko’s words, whispered into the shell of his ear, as they lay on a plaid blanket on the Legann beach while the last light of the sun faded from the horizon, were intended for Roald alone.
Torches flamed red around them, casting crimson shadows over Lord Imrah’s and his son Sir Emeric’s furrowed brows as they waged war on a chessboard, dancing with Lord Imrah’s daughters Julienne and Mathilde as they competed in charades with Sir Emeric’s squire Thomsen of Trebond, and crackling in harmony to the carols Lady Marielle was playing on her lute. In the south, Midwinter was a holiday for quiet rejoicing and reflection with family, and not an excuse for the elaborate balls and feasts customary in the north. Roald might have been in Corus with his own family if traveling that far on wintry roads didn’t feel like a dereliction of his duties as governor in the south, but Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle were almost a second set of parents to him.
“Since I was fourteen, they’ve been kind to me.” Roald thought that kind was rather a weak word to describe what Lord Imrah and Lady Marielle had been to him since he started squiring for Lord Imrah, but he couldn’t find a stronger one. To distract himself from the inadequacies of his language skills, he stared out at the sky over the waving ocean and saw the twinkle of the first star of the night.
Drawing Shinko against his chest so that her head was nestled beneath his chin, he pointed out the star and commented, “When we were little, Kally and I used to wish on the first star we saw in the evening.”
“Wishes are powerful so we must be careful what we wish for, Roald.” Shinko gazed at the star as she slipped soft fingers around his hand. “I will wish for love and happiness for you.”
“I’m happy because I love you.” Roald brushed Shinko’s curtain of ink-black hair away from her smooth cheek so he could kiss it. “You’re my love and happiness, Shinko.”