Post by Rachy on Apr 3, 2010 19:29:50 GMT 10
Title: Somewhere Away From War, I
Rating: PG
Length: 621 words
Competitor: Briar
Summary: Kel and Briar meet.
Notes: It's as unAU as I could make it... geographically aside, anyway.
-
A young man kneels in the middle of the gardens, surrounded by a waving veil of plants. She knows exactly where he kneels, in the middle of the Emperor’s rose garden, that he’s admiring the miniature roses and lilies that the Emperor adores. She’s heard of this man.
“The Yamani admire your work greatly.” He turns towards her and stands, and she watches as the plants and thorns curl away from him. He dusts the dirt from his hands and knees, and gives her a grin that makes his face truly handsome. She places her hands on her knees and bows, and is surprised that he gives her the exact same bow, the same degree of honour for her as a whispered of plant mage from the lands far south west of the Copper Isles.
“They have a great deal of respect for you, too.” His accent adds a unfamiliar lilt to his words, and she acknowledges his compliment with a quick smile. It seems odd to her that he knows who she is at least by sight, and that the Yamani have respect for her as a by-product of her mother’s work. “They think very highly of you for rescuing the children.” A faint blush crosses her cheeks, and he smiles.
“Briar Moss.” He offers his hand to her, bowing slightly.
“Keladry of Mindelan.” She takes it, and his grip is warm and comfortably tight as he shakes it, before lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers. He reminds her of Dom in his charm, except that there’s something incredibly disarming about this man from distant lands, from his tanned skin and grey-green eyes that showed his amusement, to his charming grin that made her want to know what he found amusing. He feels real to her, from the calluses and dirt in his fingernails, even to the vines trickling over his hands in a myriad of blooms, the finely made clothes he wears and the energy he gives out.
She’s not quite what he expected when several Yamani described the fearsome, brave and courageous lady knight. He can tell by her stance taht she knows what to do with the fearsome polearm she carries like a staff, and that she’s down to earth, from the quilted and inexpensive, yet tailored perfectly to accentuate her form, practice clothes she wears. Her hands aren’t as soft as the ladies of Berenene’s court, she works from the calluses he feels, and he can see taht she’s spent time in this palce before, as a child perhaps, from the mask she works to maintain and the sense of calm emanating from her.
Neither of them noticed the dead sprig on the rosebush closest to them.
..
“So, what exactly is that pole-arm you’re wielding?” She turns and smiles at him, pulling it down and resting gently on it. He’s followed her from the rose garden to the spare practice courts.
“Here it’s called a naginta. A glaive.”
“It looks like a staff got mixed with a pirate’s sword.”
“Not quite.” She offers it to him, and he takes it firmly in his hands. He spins it, watching the blade slice through the air, and smiles.
“Daj’ would love this.”
“Daj?” A flicker of worry crosses her eyes, and she reminds herself that this stranger, really, is of no business to her.
“Yeah. Daja, my foster sister. Back home, she’s a Trader. They all carry staffs, and she taught me a few things. It’s not really that different to this.”
Relief seeped it’s way into her bones, and she raised an eyebrow at his words.
“Is that a challenge, Master Moss?”
“Briar. Please. And why yes, Lady Keladry, I suppose it is.”
Rating: PG
Length: 621 words
Competitor: Briar
Summary: Kel and Briar meet.
Notes: It's as unAU as I could make it... geographically aside, anyway.
-
A young man kneels in the middle of the gardens, surrounded by a waving veil of plants. She knows exactly where he kneels, in the middle of the Emperor’s rose garden, that he’s admiring the miniature roses and lilies that the Emperor adores. She’s heard of this man.
“The Yamani admire your work greatly.” He turns towards her and stands, and she watches as the plants and thorns curl away from him. He dusts the dirt from his hands and knees, and gives her a grin that makes his face truly handsome. She places her hands on her knees and bows, and is surprised that he gives her the exact same bow, the same degree of honour for her as a whispered of plant mage from the lands far south west of the Copper Isles.
“They have a great deal of respect for you, too.” His accent adds a unfamiliar lilt to his words, and she acknowledges his compliment with a quick smile. It seems odd to her that he knows who she is at least by sight, and that the Yamani have respect for her as a by-product of her mother’s work. “They think very highly of you for rescuing the children.” A faint blush crosses her cheeks, and he smiles.
“Briar Moss.” He offers his hand to her, bowing slightly.
“Keladry of Mindelan.” She takes it, and his grip is warm and comfortably tight as he shakes it, before lifting it to his lips and kissing her fingers. He reminds her of Dom in his charm, except that there’s something incredibly disarming about this man from distant lands, from his tanned skin and grey-green eyes that showed his amusement, to his charming grin that made her want to know what he found amusing. He feels real to her, from the calluses and dirt in his fingernails, even to the vines trickling over his hands in a myriad of blooms, the finely made clothes he wears and the energy he gives out.
She’s not quite what he expected when several Yamani described the fearsome, brave and courageous lady knight. He can tell by her stance taht she knows what to do with the fearsome polearm she carries like a staff, and that she’s down to earth, from the quilted and inexpensive, yet tailored perfectly to accentuate her form, practice clothes she wears. Her hands aren’t as soft as the ladies of Berenene’s court, she works from the calluses he feels, and he can see taht she’s spent time in this palce before, as a child perhaps, from the mask she works to maintain and the sense of calm emanating from her.
Neither of them noticed the dead sprig on the rosebush closest to them.
..
“So, what exactly is that pole-arm you’re wielding?” She turns and smiles at him, pulling it down and resting gently on it. He’s followed her from the rose garden to the spare practice courts.
“Here it’s called a naginta. A glaive.”
“It looks like a staff got mixed with a pirate’s sword.”
“Not quite.” She offers it to him, and he takes it firmly in his hands. He spins it, watching the blade slice through the air, and smiles.
“Daj’ would love this.”
“Daj?” A flicker of worry crosses her eyes, and she reminds herself that this stranger, really, is of no business to her.
“Yeah. Daja, my foster sister. Back home, she’s a Trader. They all carry staffs, and she taught me a few things. It’s not really that different to this.”
Relief seeped it’s way into her bones, and she raised an eyebrow at his words.
“Is that a challenge, Master Moss?”
“Briar. Please. And why yes, Lady Keladry, I suppose it is.”