Post by Rachy on Apr 5, 2010 19:49:27 GMT 10
Title: Somewhere Away From War, Pt 3
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1071 words
Genre: Romance, Crossover
Summary: Briar and Kel's relationship deepens further before it comes to an end.
Notes: I'm bad with deadlines, and this went further then I thought. Sequel to Part One and Part Two .
--
He arrives at her door holding a bouquet of buds, looking trim and handsome in smart breeches, a white shirt and daintily embroided tunic of silk that she guesses Sandry made. She can see the hint of his medallion, from the ribbon at the sides of his neck, and he’s wearing a cheeky grin which has become very familiar. She looks pointedly at the buds, and he grins, before handing one to her, and watching it bloom into a tulip before her very eyes. A soft smile grows across her face, and she rummages around to find a vase.
“They should last a couple of weeks. Maybe a month.”
“They’re beautiful.” She says, smiling sincerely, and feeling happy butterflies in her stomach.
“As are you.” He says softly, admiring her kimono. The inner gown is a silky black, with faint dark grey embroided dragons around the edges. The outer gown is a violent pink, and decorated with white embroidery, with the signs of peace and hope, he thinks, and small birds he presumes are sparrows, judging by what she has told him. A small smile graces her face, and he bows and offers his arm.
--
He’s quite a good dancer, better then she expected him to be, though she really shouldn’t have been so surprised. He’s light on his feet, a remnant from his thief-life, and as graceful dancing as he is with a staff or a glaive. She’s also more graceful then he expected, being a knight, but then he has a feeling that her glaive practice, as well as her upbringing here contributed to that. He leads her through a complicated dance pattern, and they both laugh, panting for air. He leads her outside, to the Emperor’s rose garden, and doesn’t notice that the dead sprig from before now has a small, green and alive bud, waiting to open. He hands her a glass, and pours a small bit of wine into it.
“So why are you really here?” His voice is soft, and the only other sounds that can be heard is the crickets, chirping in the garden and the soft rush of water from the sculpture.
“Why are you really here?” She replies, smiling back.
“I’m a traveller.”
“I’m here to visit my sister, and to accompany my best friend to show her daughter to her family.” He sighs, and she laughs.
“Can I guess that you’re running away from something?” His voice is quiet, and he is tracing the patterns along her knee. She is silent, thinking.
“I fought in the Scanran War. I was the commander of a refugee camp for commoners displaced by the war and raiders. It was overrun by the enemy, and they were all taken or killed to Scanra. I disobeyed my orders and followed them, and my friends followed me as well. I killed the mage that would have killed all of the children, but there were a lot of good people thta died. The war continued for a year and a bit after that, and we were a victim of the enemy’s last attack. They thought that we were a weak link, and we showed them we weren’t, and a couple of people I was very close to basically sacrificed themselves to save me. So I’ve escaped. I’ve ran away. I just needed some time to breathe. To recover.”
“I guess you could say I’m running away too. I was in a war, in Gyongxe. The Yanjing Emperor decided to attack the Living Circle temple, and it got pretty bad. Me and Rosethorn and Evvy made it out, and then I went to Namorn with the girls, ‘cause Sandry’s related to the Empress and she needed to assert her place. And then that spiralled out, and she saw us all as objects she could possess. She tried to keep us, and nearly killed Tris, and so we blew her magical barrier to pieces. I’ve had enough of empires. I just needed somewhere away from war. Somewhere where I could heal without having a bleater look at my head.”
He looks over at her as his voice falters, and she’s looking at him with sympathy and not pity because when it comes down to it they’re in the same place. She places her hands on either side of his face, and they’re cool, and she looks at him with complete seriousness.
“Are you okay now?” She asks, her voice as cool and commanding as he imagines it to be when she gives orders.
“Being here with you has made me feel better than I have in months.”
She leans over and presses her lips firmly to his, and his hand curls around the back of her neck and he pulls her closer. Her hands run through his hair and she tastes like sweetened green tea and cider. She pulls away, breathing heavily, and his hand tangles through her hair and the other wraps around her waist. She brushes hair off his forehead, and trails her hand down the side of his face.
“Am I too presumptuous?” She asks, her voice rough. He grins wickedly back at her, his voice unsteady.
“Your room or mine?”
They laugh quietly as he wraps an arm tight around her waist, fingers tracing along her hip, and they exit the garden, as the rose blooms.
--
Several weeks later, he carries her bags to the ship. She waits, leaning on the jetty posts, as he tips the sailor. He saunters casually back to her, and pulls her close, placing a kiss on the side of her neck.
“You know Kel, you’ve helped me more then you know.” She smiles sadly, and tears gather in her eyes. He blots at them with his sleeve, and she hugs him tightly.
“And you’ve helped me even more than you know.”
“Only in teaching you a few new tricks.” She swats him, and he laughs.
“Everyone’s going abroad.”
“I won’t ever forget you, Briar. I promise I won’t forget this.”
“Neither will I.” He holds her tightly and kisses her deeply, savouring the seconds. She kisses him again, twice, and pulls away, wiping her eyes and his own. She waves as she walks up the gangplank, and he waves as the ship slowly begins to pull away. He remains until he can no longer see the ship, and walks towards the markets, whistling. His shakkan’s began to brood.
Rating: PG-13
Length: 1071 words
Genre: Romance, Crossover
Summary: Briar and Kel's relationship deepens further before it comes to an end.
Notes: I'm bad with deadlines, and this went further then I thought. Sequel to Part One and Part Two .
--
He arrives at her door holding a bouquet of buds, looking trim and handsome in smart breeches, a white shirt and daintily embroided tunic of silk that she guesses Sandry made. She can see the hint of his medallion, from the ribbon at the sides of his neck, and he’s wearing a cheeky grin which has become very familiar. She looks pointedly at the buds, and he grins, before handing one to her, and watching it bloom into a tulip before her very eyes. A soft smile grows across her face, and she rummages around to find a vase.
“They should last a couple of weeks. Maybe a month.”
“They’re beautiful.” She says, smiling sincerely, and feeling happy butterflies in her stomach.
“As are you.” He says softly, admiring her kimono. The inner gown is a silky black, with faint dark grey embroided dragons around the edges. The outer gown is a violent pink, and decorated with white embroidery, with the signs of peace and hope, he thinks, and small birds he presumes are sparrows, judging by what she has told him. A small smile graces her face, and he bows and offers his arm.
--
He’s quite a good dancer, better then she expected him to be, though she really shouldn’t have been so surprised. He’s light on his feet, a remnant from his thief-life, and as graceful dancing as he is with a staff or a glaive. She’s also more graceful then he expected, being a knight, but then he has a feeling that her glaive practice, as well as her upbringing here contributed to that. He leads her through a complicated dance pattern, and they both laugh, panting for air. He leads her outside, to the Emperor’s rose garden, and doesn’t notice that the dead sprig from before now has a small, green and alive bud, waiting to open. He hands her a glass, and pours a small bit of wine into it.
“So why are you really here?” His voice is soft, and the only other sounds that can be heard is the crickets, chirping in the garden and the soft rush of water from the sculpture.
“Why are you really here?” She replies, smiling back.
“I’m a traveller.”
“I’m here to visit my sister, and to accompany my best friend to show her daughter to her family.” He sighs, and she laughs.
“Can I guess that you’re running away from something?” His voice is quiet, and he is tracing the patterns along her knee. She is silent, thinking.
“I fought in the Scanran War. I was the commander of a refugee camp for commoners displaced by the war and raiders. It was overrun by the enemy, and they were all taken or killed to Scanra. I disobeyed my orders and followed them, and my friends followed me as well. I killed the mage that would have killed all of the children, but there were a lot of good people thta died. The war continued for a year and a bit after that, and we were a victim of the enemy’s last attack. They thought that we were a weak link, and we showed them we weren’t, and a couple of people I was very close to basically sacrificed themselves to save me. So I’ve escaped. I’ve ran away. I just needed some time to breathe. To recover.”
“I guess you could say I’m running away too. I was in a war, in Gyongxe. The Yanjing Emperor decided to attack the Living Circle temple, and it got pretty bad. Me and Rosethorn and Evvy made it out, and then I went to Namorn with the girls, ‘cause Sandry’s related to the Empress and she needed to assert her place. And then that spiralled out, and she saw us all as objects she could possess. She tried to keep us, and nearly killed Tris, and so we blew her magical barrier to pieces. I’ve had enough of empires. I just needed somewhere away from war. Somewhere where I could heal without having a bleater look at my head.”
He looks over at her as his voice falters, and she’s looking at him with sympathy and not pity because when it comes down to it they’re in the same place. She places her hands on either side of his face, and they’re cool, and she looks at him with complete seriousness.
“Are you okay now?” She asks, her voice as cool and commanding as he imagines it to be when she gives orders.
“Being here with you has made me feel better than I have in months.”
She leans over and presses her lips firmly to his, and his hand curls around the back of her neck and he pulls her closer. Her hands run through his hair and she tastes like sweetened green tea and cider. She pulls away, breathing heavily, and his hand tangles through her hair and the other wraps around her waist. She brushes hair off his forehead, and trails her hand down the side of his face.
“Am I too presumptuous?” She asks, her voice rough. He grins wickedly back at her, his voice unsteady.
“Your room or mine?”
They laugh quietly as he wraps an arm tight around her waist, fingers tracing along her hip, and they exit the garden, as the rose blooms.
--
Several weeks later, he carries her bags to the ship. She waits, leaning on the jetty posts, as he tips the sailor. He saunters casually back to her, and pulls her close, placing a kiss on the side of her neck.
“You know Kel, you’ve helped me more then you know.” She smiles sadly, and tears gather in her eyes. He blots at them with his sleeve, and she hugs him tightly.
“And you’ve helped me even more than you know.”
“Only in teaching you a few new tricks.” She swats him, and he laughs.
“Everyone’s going abroad.”
“I won’t ever forget you, Briar. I promise I won’t forget this.”
“Neither will I.” He holds her tightly and kisses her deeply, savouring the seconds. She kisses him again, twice, and pulls away, wiping her eyes and his own. She waves as she walks up the gangplank, and he waves as the ship slowly begins to pull away. He remains until he can no longer see the ship, and walks towards the markets, whistling. His shakkan’s began to brood.