Post by luinae on Oct 3, 2010 4:34:25 GMT 10
Title: Lady of the Night
Rating: PG-13
Length: 554 words
Category: Tortall
Summary: Once Queen of the Rogue, now Lady of the Night
Peculiar Pairing: In no particular order, Rispah/Imrah, Rispah/Baird, Rispah/Jon, Rispah/Joren, Rispah/Owen, Rispah/Lerant.
Notes: I thought Rispah needs some love!
“I love red hair,” the prince murmurs, running his soft hands through her long red hair. Rispah knows he isn’t thinking of her red hair, but another red headed girl, one that he misses most of all.
And for a moment, looking into the prince’s brilliant blue eyes, Rispah doesn’t really mind.
--------
“Rispah,” says a man’s voice. She turns to look at him, the night air blowing her hair around her face.
“My lord,” she says, and curtsies low. He’s to her in a second, pulling her up with strong hands that have seen battle.
“You have to remember that you’re a baroness now,” he teases. “You’re not a commoner anymore.”
“I was always taught that all nobles did was sleep around with each other,” Rispah grumbles, wrapping her arms around her body. When she looks to Imrah, the look on his face gives her the chills.
“There is a way to find that out.”
-------------
When a man half-blind with grief stumbles into the Dancing Dove, when Rispah is there visiting with old friends, she knows ways to make him happy again.
After a few drinks, he loosens up a little bit.
“I lost my sons,” he weeps. “I lost my sons.” The man takes a deep breath. “All I have left is Neal, and Jessamine. The oldest are gone.”
Rispah draws him into her arms gently, like a mother would do with a child. “It’s all right,” she says softly. “Some day, the pain will begin to ebb, and they won’t be like a stabbing knife wound anymore. They’ll just be a happy memory.”
It’s the duke who draws them into a kiss, but Rispah is quick to return the favour.
------------
Maybe she’s married, but when she comes to Corus, Rispah can’t refuse a trip to the Dancing Dove. She can’t refuse wearing that dress again, casting side-long looks at handsome customers, leaning over more then necessary. Maybe she’s been that Rispah for so long that she can’t stop.
“King’s Own,” she says to a young man. “That’s impressive. I love a man who can fight.”
The man lifts his chin. “I’m their standard bearer,” he says. “My name is Lerant of Eldorne.”
“Oooooh,” whispers Rispah. “A noblemen.” She casts him a wink that says he’ll be welcome in the area where she keeps court by the fire, to exchange a few kisses- maybe more.
---------
Rispah and the boy eye each other suspiciously.
She’ll never know why she’s come to love this boy, this beautiful boy that seems like he’s made of iron. She’ll never know what made her watch him on the training fields, or speak with him in Corus. He’s not like Coram- kind, and big, and gentle. This boy is not even a man, and he’s mean, cruel and small, and harsh.
He’ll never know why he loves her. She’s not the kind of woman he usually loves- pretty, and meek, and docile, and conservative. He’ll never know what made him love Rispah, even though she’s progressive, and outspoken, and beautiful, and free.
Joren and Rispah never know why they love each other. But that’s the beautiful thing about love. You don’t need to know. You need to feel.
----------
“Margarry won’t mind.”
“She’s born of Cavall,” Rispah sighs, rolling out of bed. “They always mind.”
Rating: PG-13
Length: 554 words
Category: Tortall
Summary: Once Queen of the Rogue, now Lady of the Night
Peculiar Pairing: In no particular order, Rispah/Imrah, Rispah/Baird, Rispah/Jon, Rispah/Joren, Rispah/Owen, Rispah/Lerant.
Notes: I thought Rispah needs some love!
“I love red hair,” the prince murmurs, running his soft hands through her long red hair. Rispah knows he isn’t thinking of her red hair, but another red headed girl, one that he misses most of all.
And for a moment, looking into the prince’s brilliant blue eyes, Rispah doesn’t really mind.
--------
“Rispah,” says a man’s voice. She turns to look at him, the night air blowing her hair around her face.
“My lord,” she says, and curtsies low. He’s to her in a second, pulling her up with strong hands that have seen battle.
“You have to remember that you’re a baroness now,” he teases. “You’re not a commoner anymore.”
“I was always taught that all nobles did was sleep around with each other,” Rispah grumbles, wrapping her arms around her body. When she looks to Imrah, the look on his face gives her the chills.
“There is a way to find that out.”
-------------
When a man half-blind with grief stumbles into the Dancing Dove, when Rispah is there visiting with old friends, she knows ways to make him happy again.
After a few drinks, he loosens up a little bit.
“I lost my sons,” he weeps. “I lost my sons.” The man takes a deep breath. “All I have left is Neal, and Jessamine. The oldest are gone.”
Rispah draws him into her arms gently, like a mother would do with a child. “It’s all right,” she says softly. “Some day, the pain will begin to ebb, and they won’t be like a stabbing knife wound anymore. They’ll just be a happy memory.”
It’s the duke who draws them into a kiss, but Rispah is quick to return the favour.
------------
Maybe she’s married, but when she comes to Corus, Rispah can’t refuse a trip to the Dancing Dove. She can’t refuse wearing that dress again, casting side-long looks at handsome customers, leaning over more then necessary. Maybe she’s been that Rispah for so long that she can’t stop.
“King’s Own,” she says to a young man. “That’s impressive. I love a man who can fight.”
The man lifts his chin. “I’m their standard bearer,” he says. “My name is Lerant of Eldorne.”
“Oooooh,” whispers Rispah. “A noblemen.” She casts him a wink that says he’ll be welcome in the area where she keeps court by the fire, to exchange a few kisses- maybe more.
---------
Rispah and the boy eye each other suspiciously.
She’ll never know why she’s come to love this boy, this beautiful boy that seems like he’s made of iron. She’ll never know what made her watch him on the training fields, or speak with him in Corus. He’s not like Coram- kind, and big, and gentle. This boy is not even a man, and he’s mean, cruel and small, and harsh.
He’ll never know why he loves her. She’s not the kind of woman he usually loves- pretty, and meek, and docile, and conservative. He’ll never know what made him love Rispah, even though she’s progressive, and outspoken, and beautiful, and free.
Joren and Rispah never know why they love each other. But that’s the beautiful thing about love. You don’t need to know. You need to feel.
----------
“Margarry won’t mind.”
“She’s born of Cavall,” Rispah sighs, rolling out of bed. “They always mind.”
This was wonderful, and I'm so glad you wrote it!
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!