Post by Carbon Kiwi on May 1, 2011 8:48:07 GMT 10
Title: That Time of Moon [7]
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 556
Pairing: Briar/Daja/Sandry/Tris [Team Circlecest]
Round/Fight: 2/C
Warnings: Menses, implied sex
Summary: Briar's steps into understanding women--since he has to live with 5 of them.
Notes: Wrote this before I read Nicki's 'Monthly' story, but am now tickled pink.
In Namorn, Briar growled at the tent in his blanket. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes again to find one of the ladies of the court smiling at him, dark eyes meant only for the bedroom. The meditation went straight out the window.
The girls closed their connection, half a palace away.
“For all he walks with many, he cares, doesn’t he?” Sandry asked, smiling faintly. “He must have paid more attention than we thought when Lark taught us all about women, back in Discipline.”
“And when Niko talked about men—”
“And Briar forced us to stay,” Daja finished for Tris, grinning. “Rat-child.”
Sandry’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t say it wasn’t interesting. Niko felt more on-the-spot than Rosethorn must have felt, when Briar caught her red-handed.”
Tris laughed at the terminology; it grew louder when she recalled the memory of Niko. “But when we were fourteen…do you remember how red he turned when Rosethorn said ‘morning wood’?”
“I thought he’d combust on the spot,” Daja remarked. “Trust Rosethorn to do that to the man.”
Sandry leaned forward and sipped her tea—this one transported from Yanjing, she thought; Briar would know. “I’ve never met a man so in tune with women.” They would know the topic of her conversation had reverted back.
Daja waggled her eyebrows. “Is that what they call it these days?” She laughed when Sandry swiped at her arm.
“He is! He’s clear about his intentions, he takes the potion each night with the women, he listens, he understands.”
Tris raised an eyebrow. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”
Sandry gave her a stern look. “You all know it’s true.”
“We do.” Daja dipped her head; when it lifted again, it held a grin. “How else is he supposed to be after living with three sisters and two mothers?”
“He had Niko—” Tris began.
“And Niko was fussier about his clothing than Rosethorn and Lark together—and Lark’s a weaver!” Sandry giggled. “They did raise us right, though, didn’t they?”
Daja and Tris nodded. The former added, “But I don’t see why they didn’t tell us sooner—about them, I mean. We were, what, ten when Lark gave us the talk about moondays and mentioned that some women don’t sleep with men? Even if not then, surely it could have been before we left…”
“It was there to see,” Sandry replied.
“You think Rosethorn would have admitted that to all of us, in words?” Tris posed. “Growing dim with age, you are.”
“I am not, merchant kaq!” Daja answered, laughing through her grin and fondly remembering their first days at Discipline. “I just mean we could have handled it sooner.”
Sandry leaned forward and caught the black girl’s eyes; cornflower blues were dancing with mirth and curiosity, lips perched in a lop-sided smile. “Is this about Rizu, perhaps?”
Daja cursed her saati as her cheeks grew red. “As likely as me and Briar, that!”
Tris wrinkled her nose. “I’d pick Rizu.”
Sandry and Daja laughed.
“Because she’s not my brother!” Tris choked, but it was too late: the damage was done. Sandry was nearly in tears and Daja was laughing into her staff. The weather witch just sighed and went on with sipping her tea. Honestly, Briar had the right of it sometimes—girls could be so silly.
QC by PeroxidePirate
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 556
Pairing: Briar/Daja/Sandry/Tris [Team Circlecest]
Round/Fight: 2/C
Warnings: Menses, implied sex
Summary: Briar's steps into understanding women--since he has to live with 5 of them.
Notes: Wrote this before I read Nicki's 'Monthly' story, but am now tickled pink.
In Namorn, Briar growled at the tent in his blanket. He breathed deeply and opened his eyes again to find one of the ladies of the court smiling at him, dark eyes meant only for the bedroom. The meditation went straight out the window.
The girls closed their connection, half a palace away.
“For all he walks with many, he cares, doesn’t he?” Sandry asked, smiling faintly. “He must have paid more attention than we thought when Lark taught us all about women, back in Discipline.”
“And when Niko talked about men—”
“And Briar forced us to stay,” Daja finished for Tris, grinning. “Rat-child.”
Sandry’s eyebrows rose. “You can’t say it wasn’t interesting. Niko felt more on-the-spot than Rosethorn must have felt, when Briar caught her red-handed.”
Tris laughed at the terminology; it grew louder when she recalled the memory of Niko. “But when we were fourteen…do you remember how red he turned when Rosethorn said ‘morning wood’?”
“I thought he’d combust on the spot,” Daja remarked. “Trust Rosethorn to do that to the man.”
Sandry leaned forward and sipped her tea—this one transported from Yanjing, she thought; Briar would know. “I’ve never met a man so in tune with women.” They would know the topic of her conversation had reverted back.
Daja waggled her eyebrows. “Is that what they call it these days?” She laughed when Sandry swiped at her arm.
“He is! He’s clear about his intentions, he takes the potion each night with the women, he listens, he understands.”
Tris raised an eyebrow. “You sound as though you speak from experience.”
Sandry gave her a stern look. “You all know it’s true.”
“We do.” Daja dipped her head; when it lifted again, it held a grin. “How else is he supposed to be after living with three sisters and two mothers?”
“He had Niko—” Tris began.
“And Niko was fussier about his clothing than Rosethorn and Lark together—and Lark’s a weaver!” Sandry giggled. “They did raise us right, though, didn’t they?”
Daja and Tris nodded. The former added, “But I don’t see why they didn’t tell us sooner—about them, I mean. We were, what, ten when Lark gave us the talk about moondays and mentioned that some women don’t sleep with men? Even if not then, surely it could have been before we left…”
“It was there to see,” Sandry replied.
“You think Rosethorn would have admitted that to all of us, in words?” Tris posed. “Growing dim with age, you are.”
“I am not, merchant kaq!” Daja answered, laughing through her grin and fondly remembering their first days at Discipline. “I just mean we could have handled it sooner.”
Sandry leaned forward and caught the black girl’s eyes; cornflower blues were dancing with mirth and curiosity, lips perched in a lop-sided smile. “Is this about Rizu, perhaps?”
Daja cursed her saati as her cheeks grew red. “As likely as me and Briar, that!”
Tris wrinkled her nose. “I’d pick Rizu.”
Sandry and Daja laughed.
“Because she’s not my brother!” Tris choked, but it was too late: the damage was done. Sandry was nearly in tears and Daja was laughing into her staff. The weather witch just sighed and went on with sipping her tea. Honestly, Briar had the right of it sometimes—girls could be so silly.
QC by PeroxidePirate