Post by max on Feb 3, 2010 13:48:12 GMT 10
Title: Sororitas
Rating: R
Length: 824 words
Competitor: Uline of Hannalof
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: If you go into the woods today…
Again with the smut.
And to think I’d never written slash (or smut) in my life before yesterday.
Trying to keep it short. I might rewrite it at a later date, and, y’know, add in some actual character development. But hey.
========
Oranie’s wedding day comes after the war when the leaves of the trees are falling like fire around her fashionably auburn head, and although Keladry has never had a head for the management of the kinds of armies her sisters employ she is able to appreciate the outcome. The Minchi and Hannaloff families are two of the greatest in the land, the Mindelans one of the most popular, and nothing she has seen at court or congress matches the delicacy and intricacy and beauty of this event – the ceremony completed, chairs replaced by benches around the edges of the forest glade, the sound of music and laughter, the gentle rush of trees and dancers.
She is dressed to avoid the latter though, her kimono restricting her to only the most basic dances – the only ones she knows – and glad to simply move through the peripheries of this celebration, her mind many leagues North of here and still with a village in the foothills of the mountains, wondering how they are, worrying in case the snows come early and the passes close, wishing for the safety and comfort of the life she chose for herself.
‘Keladry of Mindelan, your impression of a tree leaves a lot to be desired,’ comes a voice, and she turns.
Uline haMinch curtseys as Kel bows, hands upon her thighs, and then takes Kel’s hands in her own, smiling.
‘I heard a lot about your heroic deeds in the past year, but I should warn you, I know every tree and leaf in these forests by sight, sister dearest.’
This startles a laugh out of her, but Uline only smiles wryly and says ‘I do believe the gods want us to know each other Keladry – we are now kin twice over, after all.’
‘You may well be right…’ says Kel, recalling a particular pair of yellow eyes and where they led her, but when she remembers where she is, apology on her lips for having forgotten her companion, Uline is just as preoccupied she was – albeit by something much more earthly.
Her chest.
A coil of heat seems to spread in her abdomen as she clears her throat, and Uline’s gaze flickers back to her. Unashamed.
The sound of music and laughter, the gentle rush of trees and dancers, ensures that here, on the peripheries, Kel is the only one who hears Uline say ‘I have seen the way you look at me.’
Say, ‘You make me wonder.’
And Keladry, her heart hammering, finds herself agreeing to go for a walk with Uline, into the forests of Hannalof. Nobody sees them go. And even if they did, what is a walk in the woods between sisters?
What indeed.
Between the roots of a sycamore tree, the music of the glade long out of hearing, she gives Uline her virginity, blood running down her thighs to mingle with the blood and fire of the autumnal earth, the pain impossible and extraordinary, Uline’s head buried in the crook of her neck, the fragrance of roses in her hair, promises in her ear that she knows cannot be kept by either of them, but that isn’t the point of this, not at all, and she doesn’t know what will happen when the wave inside of her (growing larger and faster, gathering strength) breaks, anymore than she knows how she will explain her absence, but the awareness that she should care is about as distant to her as the peaceful realms (then again, she has heard this called the little death) and there is only Uline’s taste, an audience of gods and spirits invisible, the delicate seed pods falling on and around them, and when she grab onto the roots of the tree as her body arches the irony of it is blinding.
When the sunburst behind her eyes has faded and Uline is helping her into her kimono, Kel has a recollection of her journey south, and the way she had viewed the coming balls and parties her sisters intended to host, now that the war was over. The armies of servants and entertainers and organising involved. As Uline reaches up to comb her fingers through Kel’s hair, she asks the older girl, ‘Will you be going to the Samhain ball at Nond House in Corus?’
‘I believe so…’ she replies absently, leaning up to press her lips to Kel’s softly. ‘Are you… alright to walk?’
‘I’ll blame it on the dress. I was just… wondering…’
‘Oh were you?’ and Kel can tell from the way Uline’s eyes have darkened that she has understood where this is going.
‘What the specifics of the sleeping arrangements are going to be.’
‘You know, I’m not certain Adie has planned so far ahead,’ says Uline as the two girls link arms and make their way back through the trees. ‘I think I might offer my services now…’
Suddenly the social season seems to Kel a great deal brighter.
Rating: R
Length: 824 words
Competitor: Uline of Hannalof
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: If you go into the woods today…
Again with the smut.
And to think I’d never written slash (or smut) in my life before yesterday.
Trying to keep it short. I might rewrite it at a later date, and, y’know, add in some actual character development. But hey.
========
Oranie’s wedding day comes after the war when the leaves of the trees are falling like fire around her fashionably auburn head, and although Keladry has never had a head for the management of the kinds of armies her sisters employ she is able to appreciate the outcome. The Minchi and Hannaloff families are two of the greatest in the land, the Mindelans one of the most popular, and nothing she has seen at court or congress matches the delicacy and intricacy and beauty of this event – the ceremony completed, chairs replaced by benches around the edges of the forest glade, the sound of music and laughter, the gentle rush of trees and dancers.
She is dressed to avoid the latter though, her kimono restricting her to only the most basic dances – the only ones she knows – and glad to simply move through the peripheries of this celebration, her mind many leagues North of here and still with a village in the foothills of the mountains, wondering how they are, worrying in case the snows come early and the passes close, wishing for the safety and comfort of the life she chose for herself.
‘Keladry of Mindelan, your impression of a tree leaves a lot to be desired,’ comes a voice, and she turns.
Uline haMinch curtseys as Kel bows, hands upon her thighs, and then takes Kel’s hands in her own, smiling.
‘I heard a lot about your heroic deeds in the past year, but I should warn you, I know every tree and leaf in these forests by sight, sister dearest.’
This startles a laugh out of her, but Uline only smiles wryly and says ‘I do believe the gods want us to know each other Keladry – we are now kin twice over, after all.’
‘You may well be right…’ says Kel, recalling a particular pair of yellow eyes and where they led her, but when she remembers where she is, apology on her lips for having forgotten her companion, Uline is just as preoccupied she was – albeit by something much more earthly.
Her chest.
A coil of heat seems to spread in her abdomen as she clears her throat, and Uline’s gaze flickers back to her. Unashamed.
The sound of music and laughter, the gentle rush of trees and dancers, ensures that here, on the peripheries, Kel is the only one who hears Uline say ‘I have seen the way you look at me.’
Say, ‘You make me wonder.’
And Keladry, her heart hammering, finds herself agreeing to go for a walk with Uline, into the forests of Hannalof. Nobody sees them go. And even if they did, what is a walk in the woods between sisters?
What indeed.
Between the roots of a sycamore tree, the music of the glade long out of hearing, she gives Uline her virginity, blood running down her thighs to mingle with the blood and fire of the autumnal earth, the pain impossible and extraordinary, Uline’s head buried in the crook of her neck, the fragrance of roses in her hair, promises in her ear that she knows cannot be kept by either of them, but that isn’t the point of this, not at all, and she doesn’t know what will happen when the wave inside of her (growing larger and faster, gathering strength) breaks, anymore than she knows how she will explain her absence, but the awareness that she should care is about as distant to her as the peaceful realms (then again, she has heard this called the little death) and there is only Uline’s taste, an audience of gods and spirits invisible, the delicate seed pods falling on and around them, and when she grab onto the roots of the tree as her body arches the irony of it is blinding.
When the sunburst behind her eyes has faded and Uline is helping her into her kimono, Kel has a recollection of her journey south, and the way she had viewed the coming balls and parties her sisters intended to host, now that the war was over. The armies of servants and entertainers and organising involved. As Uline reaches up to comb her fingers through Kel’s hair, she asks the older girl, ‘Will you be going to the Samhain ball at Nond House in Corus?’
‘I believe so…’ she replies absently, leaning up to press her lips to Kel’s softly. ‘Are you… alright to walk?’
‘I’ll blame it on the dress. I was just… wondering…’
‘Oh were you?’ and Kel can tell from the way Uline’s eyes have darkened that she has understood where this is going.
‘What the specifics of the sleeping arrangements are going to be.’
‘You know, I’m not certain Adie has planned so far ahead,’ says Uline as the two girls link arms and make their way back through the trees. ‘I think I might offer my services now…’
Suddenly the social season seems to Kel a great deal brighter.