Post by journeycat on Nov 4, 2009 11:14:40 GMT 10
Title: As Dreamers Do
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13, mostly for a little touchy-feely and potential cavities.
Fairytale/Nursery Rhyme adapted: Star Light, Star Bright
Word Count: 838
Summary: Wishes really do come true, even for people who don't wish on stars.
Notes: In the spirit of Wyldon Winter and for the ladies of the Kel/Wyldon thread Also, the title was taken from the song "When You Wish Upon a Star," which also seemed appropriate for this.
-----
“Make a wish.”
“Mmm?”
“It’s the first star. You have to make a wish.”
Wyldon lifted himself up on an elbow, peering down at her doubtfully. “Is this another one of your Yamani superstitions?”
“No, it’s not.” Keladry smothered a giggle, striving for a straight face. “It’s common knowledge. Everyone wishes on the first star they see.”
“I thought that was a shooting star.”
“It’s both.”
“I think you’re making it up.”
“I am not,” she insisted, laughing. “Oh, come here—you have leaves all in your hair. You look so silly.”
He scowled as she plucked rotting brown leaves from his hair. She crushed them in her fist and let the cool autumn wind carry them away. The horizon was still pink with the setting sun, but the edges were already blurring into the deep blue of early night sky. One lone star twinkled distantly, the only light but for the thin crescent moon. It should have been freezing for them, with all their clothes strewn about and a dew-soaked horse blanket being all that separated them from the hard ground, but it was oddly cozy.
“There,” she said, brushing crumbled bits from his shoulder. “They’re all gone.”
Wyldon grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it and kissed her palm. His breath was warm against her skin, and her arms prickled pleasantly with goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” he asked, moving down to her sensitive wrist.
“No,” she murmured, shivering. “It’s nice.”
“Nice?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
Kel half-heartedly protested as he rolled over on top of her, planting his elbows on either side of her head, and kissed her slow and soft. His long body was heavy and strong on hers, and she idly traced the puckered scars on his back as his hands traced the contours of her body.
“I don’t remember this one.”
She glanced down in vague surprised as one of his calloused fingertips drew a pattern around an almost-healed wound on her hip. “I got it a couple months ago on the Scanran border.”
“You shouldn’t take such risks.”
“You should talk.”
He half-smiled down at her, his elbows on either side of her face again. “I don’t take unnecessary risks.”
She snorted. “Just dumb ones.”
“Lady knight, are you criticizing me?”
“Never, my lord.”
He actually laughed, and she smelled mint and something sweet on his breath. She struggled for a moment, and then joined him. It was still strange, when he laughed openly at her jokes; maybe it was strange for him, too, when she completely dropped her Yamani Mask.
Wyldon kissed her again. “I wouldn’t, you know.”
She cocked her head, puzzled. “What?”
“I wouldn’t make a wish.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have anything to wish for.”
Kel teased, “Everyone wants to wish for something.”
“Unless they already have everything they want.”
“No wealth, no fine horses, no beautiful women?”
“I already have two of those,” he said. “As for beautiful women—I guess you aren’t so bad—”
She pinched his thigh. “You’re not being serious.”
“I am.”
“You really wouldn’t wish for anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“But—you wouldn’t want to wish for—for Lady Vivenne back, or something like that?”
He studied her for a moment, his face unreadable again. Kel suddenly felt small, like she had gone too far. But then he brushed her hair away from her eyes, his own searching her expression. “What’s the point in wishing for something that I have now?”
Something loosened in her chest. “But you loved her.”
“And I still do. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
Never before had he said those words to her; it was a subject they had always avoided. She hadn’t known he had felt that way—or maybe—maybe she had hoped—
“Really?”
“Really.”
His dark eyes were apprehensive, and she suddenly realized in a rush of emotion that he was waiting for more.
She touched his cheek. “I love you, too.”
Wyldon smiled down at her, and there was a lightheartedness in his face that made her heart shine. “Then marry me.”
“Marry you?”
“Yes. I love you, and you love me, and we’re hardly a secret anymore. You’ve effectively proved yourself as an able knight, and I haven’t been your commander in years. Marry me.”
“I—I—but—I’ll be the lady of Cavall—and your daughters—and Owen—”
Wyldon snorted. “Margarry gave us her blessing long ago, and Cathrea has already offered us the Temple.”
“Wait—you already talked to them?”
“I couldn’t marry someone they didn’t approve.”
“And they approve...?”
“Unanimously.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Kel smiled tentatively at him. “I—yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you.”
His eyes flashed. “Really?”
“Really.”
He grabbed her face with rough hands and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. The night sky spun dizzily above her.
“Keladry?”
“Mmm?”
“What would you wish for?”
She breathed in deeply, catching his scent of leather and horse and woodsmoke. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she whispered. “It already came true.”
Rating (and Warnings): PG-13, mostly for a little touchy-feely and potential cavities.
Fairytale/Nursery Rhyme adapted: Star Light, Star Bright
Word Count: 838
Summary: Wishes really do come true, even for people who don't wish on stars.
Notes: In the spirit of Wyldon Winter and for the ladies of the Kel/Wyldon thread Also, the title was taken from the song "When You Wish Upon a Star," which also seemed appropriate for this.
-----
“Make a wish.”
“Mmm?”
“It’s the first star. You have to make a wish.”
Wyldon lifted himself up on an elbow, peering down at her doubtfully. “Is this another one of your Yamani superstitions?”
“No, it’s not.” Keladry smothered a giggle, striving for a straight face. “It’s common knowledge. Everyone wishes on the first star they see.”
“I thought that was a shooting star.”
“It’s both.”
“I think you’re making it up.”
“I am not,” she insisted, laughing. “Oh, come here—you have leaves all in your hair. You look so silly.”
He scowled as she plucked rotting brown leaves from his hair. She crushed them in her fist and let the cool autumn wind carry them away. The horizon was still pink with the setting sun, but the edges were already blurring into the deep blue of early night sky. One lone star twinkled distantly, the only light but for the thin crescent moon. It should have been freezing for them, with all their clothes strewn about and a dew-soaked horse blanket being all that separated them from the hard ground, but it was oddly cozy.
“There,” she said, brushing crumbled bits from his shoulder. “They’re all gone.”
Wyldon grabbed her hand before she could withdraw it and kissed her palm. His breath was warm against her skin, and her arms prickled pleasantly with goosebumps.
“Are you cold?” he asked, moving down to her sensitive wrist.
“No,” she murmured, shivering. “It’s nice.”
“Nice?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “That’s all?”
Kel half-heartedly protested as he rolled over on top of her, planting his elbows on either side of her head, and kissed her slow and soft. His long body was heavy and strong on hers, and she idly traced the puckered scars on his back as his hands traced the contours of her body.
“I don’t remember this one.”
She glanced down in vague surprised as one of his calloused fingertips drew a pattern around an almost-healed wound on her hip. “I got it a couple months ago on the Scanran border.”
“You shouldn’t take such risks.”
“You should talk.”
He half-smiled down at her, his elbows on either side of her face again. “I don’t take unnecessary risks.”
She snorted. “Just dumb ones.”
“Lady knight, are you criticizing me?”
“Never, my lord.”
He actually laughed, and she smelled mint and something sweet on his breath. She struggled for a moment, and then joined him. It was still strange, when he laughed openly at her jokes; maybe it was strange for him, too, when she completely dropped her Yamani Mask.
Wyldon kissed her again. “I wouldn’t, you know.”
She cocked her head, puzzled. “What?”
“I wouldn’t make a wish.”
“Why?”
“I don’t have anything to wish for.”
Kel teased, “Everyone wants to wish for something.”
“Unless they already have everything they want.”
“No wealth, no fine horses, no beautiful women?”
“I already have two of those,” he said. “As for beautiful women—I guess you aren’t so bad—”
She pinched his thigh. “You’re not being serious.”
“I am.”
“You really wouldn’t wish for anything?”
“Not a thing.”
“But—you wouldn’t want to wish for—for Lady Vivenne back, or something like that?”
He studied her for a moment, his face unreadable again. Kel suddenly felt small, like she had gone too far. But then he brushed her hair away from her eyes, his own searching her expression. “What’s the point in wishing for something that I have now?”
Something loosened in her chest. “But you loved her.”
“And I still do. That doesn’t mean I love you any less.”
Never before had he said those words to her; it was a subject they had always avoided. She hadn’t known he had felt that way—or maybe—maybe she had hoped—
“Really?”
“Really.”
His dark eyes were apprehensive, and she suddenly realized in a rush of emotion that he was waiting for more.
She touched his cheek. “I love you, too.”
Wyldon smiled down at her, and there was a lightheartedness in his face that made her heart shine. “Then marry me.”
“Marry you?”
“Yes. I love you, and you love me, and we’re hardly a secret anymore. You’ve effectively proved yourself as an able knight, and I haven’t been your commander in years. Marry me.”
“I—I—but—I’ll be the lady of Cavall—and your daughters—and Owen—”
Wyldon snorted. “Margarry gave us her blessing long ago, and Cathrea has already offered us the Temple.”
“Wait—you already talked to them?”
“I couldn’t marry someone they didn’t approve.”
“And they approve...?”
“Unanimously.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Kel smiled tentatively at him. “I—yes.”
“Yes?”
“Yes. I’ll marry you.”
His eyes flashed. “Really?”
“Really.”
He grabbed her face with rough hands and kissed her fiercely on the mouth. The night sky spun dizzily above her.
“Keladry?”
“Mmm?”
“What would you wish for?”
She breathed in deeply, catching his scent of leather and horse and woodsmoke. “It doesn’t matter anymore,” she whispered. “It already came true.”