Post by max on Feb 5, 2010 16:21:17 GMT 10
Title: Daybreak
Rating: PG
Length: 300
Competitor: Uline
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Discord at Dawn
Uline sleeps with abandon, still as a child, like one of the marble sculptures in the palace galleries, and so when Keladry slides her legs out from under the covers, dresses in the dark hours before sunrise, she tries not to make any noise whatsoever, disturb the bed in any way, wishing Uline to stay in those realms of Gainel that brush so close to the peace of his brother’s.
But when her shirt is on, her sword scabbarded, prepared to return to her own quarters to pretend for another day that she has not spent the night seeking joy in the hollow of a hyacinth flavoured throat, hand on the door,
‘I don’t miss you,’ comes the voice, and she turns.
There is Uline, as still as always, face set in lines of serenity, and for a moment Kel thinks she’s imagined it all.
‘When you do this. I want you to know. I don’t miss you.’
The luminous eyes open, and Uline is staring straight at her, with the arrogance of a Griffin, for all that her hands are cushioned beneath her cheek and her body is bare beneath the carefully white sheets.
There are some things Keladry knew she would have to sacrifice to become a warrior. In these hours before the break of day, though, the price seems too high to pay. Uline is angry with her, and she can’t understand why. Not when it is her reputation at stake here, for her that all the secrecy is necessary, and suddenly Kel is tired of the silence and the darkness, the hiding of who they are.
‘That’s just as well,’ she says, bitterly.
She makes it back to her rooms in time to bolt the door before she slides to the ground, head in her hands.
Rating: PG
Length: 300
Competitor: Uline
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Discord at Dawn
Uline sleeps with abandon, still as a child, like one of the marble sculptures in the palace galleries, and so when Keladry slides her legs out from under the covers, dresses in the dark hours before sunrise, she tries not to make any noise whatsoever, disturb the bed in any way, wishing Uline to stay in those realms of Gainel that brush so close to the peace of his brother’s.
But when her shirt is on, her sword scabbarded, prepared to return to her own quarters to pretend for another day that she has not spent the night seeking joy in the hollow of a hyacinth flavoured throat, hand on the door,
‘I don’t miss you,’ comes the voice, and she turns.
There is Uline, as still as always, face set in lines of serenity, and for a moment Kel thinks she’s imagined it all.
‘When you do this. I want you to know. I don’t miss you.’
The luminous eyes open, and Uline is staring straight at her, with the arrogance of a Griffin, for all that her hands are cushioned beneath her cheek and her body is bare beneath the carefully white sheets.
There are some things Keladry knew she would have to sacrifice to become a warrior. In these hours before the break of day, though, the price seems too high to pay. Uline is angry with her, and she can’t understand why. Not when it is her reputation at stake here, for her that all the secrecy is necessary, and suddenly Kel is tired of the silence and the darkness, the hiding of who they are.
‘That’s just as well,’ she says, bitterly.
She makes it back to her rooms in time to bolt the door before she slides to the ground, head in her hands.