Post by Kit on Jun 13, 2010 23:39:58 GMT 10
Title: New Old Threads: Rememberance
Series: Speculation AU-verse. Most of these snippets are little bits I can't fit into that monster-fic without sounding like an exposition explosion. This is just before events outlined in Chapter Two.
Rating: PG
Words: 295
Summary: Discipline prepares for new occupants. Crane is displeased.
“What? Gorse is sending her here?”
The Earth Dedicate grinned, leaning his elbows hard on his scrubbed table. Crane winced.
“I don’t think,” said Briar, “Even Gorse can send Sandry anywhere, these days, Strongly suggest, in that way he—”
“—that’s Honoured Gorse, to you. And Lady—“
“Ah, save us, Crane. That’s petty.” Passing his hand through his short, heavy hair and over his eyes to keep them off the Air Dedicate’s now-sepulchral face, he caught a small, outraged noise from the other man and had to grin.
“You’re smiling and she has been poisoned.”
“Better that than going all weepy on you. We’re long past that.”
“You are insufferable.” Crane reached out a long, narrow hand and grabbed one florid, shifting wrist, thumb settling easily against the rose that had, for the last few years, tended to bloom by his left pulse point. “Sandrilene is the most valuable unmarried piece of Summersea—of Emelan’s—aristocracy, is up to her ears in the most wretched inheritance imbroglio outside of, oh, never mind.”
“I never do.”
“And you’re expecting to keep her here?”
Briar smirked, pulling his hand away.
“What?”
“You. Isas, are jealous.”
Crane flinched, but did not look away from the man who had to first name to hurl anywhere. “You are very much ahead of yourself.”
“You don’t think I can keep her safe? Not that she needs keeping—“ Briar swallowed, visions of a haughty fifteen-year-old fresh from Normorn’s most vicious social seasons clouded, now, by the small, smudged thing he had seen in the infirmary beds.
Crane, watching, shook his head. “There’s no talking to you,” he said. “Though no one’s said it’s her safety that concerns me.”
The door closed, and Briar let his head rest on his hands.
Series: Speculation AU-verse. Most of these snippets are little bits I can't fit into that monster-fic without sounding like an exposition explosion. This is just before events outlined in Chapter Two.
Rating: PG
Words: 295
Summary: Discipline prepares for new occupants. Crane is displeased.
“What? Gorse is sending her here?”
The Earth Dedicate grinned, leaning his elbows hard on his scrubbed table. Crane winced.
“I don’t think,” said Briar, “Even Gorse can send Sandry anywhere, these days, Strongly suggest, in that way he—”
“—that’s Honoured Gorse, to you. And Lady—“
“Ah, save us, Crane. That’s petty.” Passing his hand through his short, heavy hair and over his eyes to keep them off the Air Dedicate’s now-sepulchral face, he caught a small, outraged noise from the other man and had to grin.
“You’re smiling and she has been poisoned.”
“Better that than going all weepy on you. We’re long past that.”
“You are insufferable.” Crane reached out a long, narrow hand and grabbed one florid, shifting wrist, thumb settling easily against the rose that had, for the last few years, tended to bloom by his left pulse point. “Sandrilene is the most valuable unmarried piece of Summersea—of Emelan’s—aristocracy, is up to her ears in the most wretched inheritance imbroglio outside of, oh, never mind.”
“I never do.”
“And you’re expecting to keep her here?”
Briar smirked, pulling his hand away.
“What?”
“You. Isas, are jealous.”
Crane flinched, but did not look away from the man who had to first name to hurl anywhere. “You are very much ahead of yourself.”
“You don’t think I can keep her safe? Not that she needs keeping—“ Briar swallowed, visions of a haughty fifteen-year-old fresh from Normorn’s most vicious social seasons clouded, now, by the small, smudged thing he had seen in the infirmary beds.
Crane, watching, shook his head. “There’s no talking to you,” he said. “Though no one’s said it’s her safety that concerns me.”
The door closed, and Briar let his head rest on his hands.