Post by Kit on Apr 6, 2011 14:37:46 GMT 10
Title: Worries
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 460
Pairing: Team Circlecest
Round: 1/H
Summary: Glaki is unsure about many things, growing up. But there are some certainties.
Glaki sighed, and stared at her tea.
Her hands, by some mercy, were still, so there were no tremors to its surface. Rich and dark Trader tea from Daja’s stores, first tried by a wondering eight-year-old. The tall smith mage had set brought it down this evening, her every motion telling the girl that she knew, and that there would be some ceremony, if she could help it, in every journey.
Tris had spent most of the night keeping too still.
“It’ll be all right,” Glaki said. “I know that. I just can’t help being a little worried about—”
“—the sorts who talk about that have their uses.” Her foster mother’s voice was tight. “You’ll get a good head for the people who are so stupid, you won’t have to worry about besting them.”
Glaki looked up, smiling wanly, while Daja let one broad hand drop to Tris’s shoulder. “Tris,” she said, “bested a lot of people.”
The other woman scowled. “They called me queer and fat and mad,” she said. “If I hadn’t become used to that by Lightsbridge, then—”
“—and I’m quite used to being the illegitimate daughter of a whore whose nearest adopted relations could break the world.” Glaki, flushing, met Tris’s fine grey eyes and held them.
“Your mother wasn’t a whore. And there’s no need for language.”
“And you’re not mad.”
“And words are words, from kaqs or anyone else.” Daja placed a cup into Tris’s hands, her own brass-bound palm firm. “They hurt, so of course she is worried. They are from stupid people, so of course it’s best to try and ignore them. You are both right.” She grinned, slow and wicked. “And the two of you are going to be miserable without the other. It’ll be a fun house for me, here, with Tris moping and Briar away in Namorn to give Sandry fits.”
“Of jealousy?” Glaki ventured.
“You’re not supposed to talk that way about a public figure,” Tris muttered.
“You’re a public figure.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Daja’s a public figure,”
“So’s she.”
Glaki laughed. “Briar’s a—”
“He’s a public menace,” Daja said, while Tris snorted.
“I really will miss you,” Glaki said, softly. “Lark and Rosethorn, too, just like how you both said you’d missed them.”
“I know,” said Tris, her voice a little thick. “But just think of how much you can learn.”
“And,” said Daja, something new and implacable in her voice, reaching out to tap the old, lovingly polished kitchen table she had brought into Cheeseman St years before. “You will always have a home here.”
Glaki swallowed down tears, but a little part of her smiled. These two had come to resemble Rosethorn and Lark in more ways than they knew.
QC by: journeycat
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 460
Pairing: Team Circlecest
Round: 1/H
Summary: Glaki is unsure about many things, growing up. But there are some certainties.
Glaki sighed, and stared at her tea.
Her hands, by some mercy, were still, so there were no tremors to its surface. Rich and dark Trader tea from Daja’s stores, first tried by a wondering eight-year-old. The tall smith mage had set brought it down this evening, her every motion telling the girl that she knew, and that there would be some ceremony, if she could help it, in every journey.
Tris had spent most of the night keeping too still.
“It’ll be all right,” Glaki said. “I know that. I just can’t help being a little worried about—”
“—the sorts who talk about that have their uses.” Her foster mother’s voice was tight. “You’ll get a good head for the people who are so stupid, you won’t have to worry about besting them.”
Glaki looked up, smiling wanly, while Daja let one broad hand drop to Tris’s shoulder. “Tris,” she said, “bested a lot of people.”
The other woman scowled. “They called me queer and fat and mad,” she said. “If I hadn’t become used to that by Lightsbridge, then—”
“—and I’m quite used to being the illegitimate daughter of a whore whose nearest adopted relations could break the world.” Glaki, flushing, met Tris’s fine grey eyes and held them.
“Your mother wasn’t a whore. And there’s no need for language.”
“And you’re not mad.”
“And words are words, from kaqs or anyone else.” Daja placed a cup into Tris’s hands, her own brass-bound palm firm. “They hurt, so of course she is worried. They are from stupid people, so of course it’s best to try and ignore them. You are both right.” She grinned, slow and wicked. “And the two of you are going to be miserable without the other. It’ll be a fun house for me, here, with Tris moping and Briar away in Namorn to give Sandry fits.”
“Of jealousy?” Glaki ventured.
“You’re not supposed to talk that way about a public figure,” Tris muttered.
“You’re a public figure.”
“I’m your mother.”
“Daja’s a public figure,”
“So’s she.”
Glaki laughed. “Briar’s a—”
“He’s a public menace,” Daja said, while Tris snorted.
“I really will miss you,” Glaki said, softly. “Lark and Rosethorn, too, just like how you both said you’d missed them.”
“I know,” said Tris, her voice a little thick. “But just think of how much you can learn.”
“And,” said Daja, something new and implacable in her voice, reaching out to tap the old, lovingly polished kitchen table she had brought into Cheeseman St years before. “You will always have a home here.”
Glaki swallowed down tears, but a little part of her smiled. These two had come to resemble Rosethorn and Lark in more ways than they knew.
QC by: journeycat