Post by brilyn on Aug 2, 2009 14:52:25 GMT 10
Title: Woven Decision
Rating: PG
Length: 969
Category: Emelan
Summary: The four discuss the new weave being added to Sandry's life.
Peculiar Pairing: Crane/Sandry
“But he’s so much older than you,” Tris grumbled, tweaking the dress unnecessarily, since Sandry herself had made it. Tris, Daja, Lark, and Rosethorn would all be wearing gowns for that day, when Sandry would be wed by Moonstream at the Duke’s Citadel in just a short time. Briar, Niko, Frostpine, and the Duke would stand on the groom’s side.
“It’s my duty. I have to marry him. Besides, it’s nothing new. I knew I’d have to marry at some point. This is just the smartest match that Uncle approves of,” Sandry said patiently. She frowned at Daja’s dress clothes. “Those shouldn’t fit like that. Come here, Daj’.” She ordered the silk to sit properly, ordering to hard at first, causing the soft fabric to become stiff. Sandry took a breath and released it in the count of sevens she had learned over ten years ago.
“I didn’t even know the Bag was allowed to marry,” Briar said from his spot at the door. “I thought his vows at the temple and as First Dedicate would keep him too busy for a marriage.”
Sandry shook her head. “His elder brother died last spring in the floods that wrecked his lands and this is the only way for them to raise enough money to help. He’s going to give up his position to take care of his people.”
“He’s still just a stuffed up old fool,” muttered Briar gruffly and Sandry had to grin at him.
“You just say that because you think you have to hate him, when, in reality, you hate him as much as Rosethorn, which is not a bit,” Sandry retorted.
Briar walked over to Sandry as she stood in front of the mirror and tweaked her nose, a gesture that almost brought tears to her eyes. “Not once have you said what you think of this match.” His voice was serious, very different from his affectionate gesture. “Do you want him? Could you love him?” her brother asked.
Sandry avoided looking in his eyes, looking at her reflection for a while as she gathered her thoughts. “He is strong and confident. He believes in my magic and me being my own person. He’s been there for years, almost as long as you all have been. Since the plague, I’ve cared for him and when I had to spin the unmagic-“ they all shuddered, having shared her memories of that night long before now “-he’s been there to help. It could be worse.”
“That’s a politician’s answer,” Daja accused.
“I don’t know if I love him,” Sandry snapped. “I just know that I have to.” More quietly she added, “It could be worse. I like him and he, me. If we could love, I don’t know. But we have an understanding and I do care for him.”
“Enough to take him as your husband? Enough to bind yourself to him in a thread that won’t be broken until death?” insisted Tris now. “Enough to bear his children, to care for him and them when they are sick, to be bound to his lands even after he’s dead? Enough to travel away from here and us to be his wife?”
Sandry sat on the little divan placed in the room. She pulled out the thread circle that was the four of them. “Are we ever so far apart as that?” she asked, not wanting to answer all of those questions.
She was answered with silence. She gave a small little smirk before becoming grim. “Honestly, I don’t know the answers to those. Most times, I find myself thinking yes. While you were all traveling, I was here and so was he. Our paths crossed many times and they continued to cross even after you returned. It’s like a loom and him and I are weaving a pattern that I cannot see yet.”
She looked up to see their reactions. Tris and Briar still did not look happy, and Tris still seemed as though she thought the whole matter a great injustice. Daja simply watched her.
“Say you understand,” Sandry pleaded quietly, clutching the circle in her hands.
“Saati, if you cannot see the pattern, how are we to?” Daja asked finally. Sandry started to speak, but she held up her hand, the brass on the back of it gleaming in the light coming in the window. “However, it is a pattern you are forging for yourself. We can no more stop you from this decision than we can take away your noble status and your duty to do this as part of it. I only hope that the metal comes out of the fire stronger than ever.”
A knock came at the door. Lark poked her head in, already changed and ready. “Sandry? It’s time. They’re waiting.” Sandry nodded and Lark left, knowing the four needed the last few moments together.
“Are you sure about this?” Briar asked at last, looking at his feet.
Sandry nodded. He sighed and looked back up. He flashed a smile that she knew he didn’t quite feel and tweaked her nose again. “He’s not so bad, so long as he doesn’t put on his Bag act too much and doesn’t start fussing.” With a nod, he stepped out swiftly; his eyes wide open so no one could mistake his bright eyes as sparkling with tears.
Tris sighed explosively. “But he’s so old,” she complained to no one in particular. She followed Briar out without another word, her twin braids around her face sparking only slightly.
Only Daja and Sandry were left now. They looked at each other for a moment more before Daja offered her hand. “Ready?”
Sandry nodded and took her hand. A short time later, Sandrilene fa Toren was wedded to First Dedicate of the Air Temple, Isas Crane.
Rating: PG
Length: 969
Category: Emelan
Summary: The four discuss the new weave being added to Sandry's life.
Peculiar Pairing: Crane/Sandry
***
“But he’s so much older than you,” Tris grumbled, tweaking the dress unnecessarily, since Sandry herself had made it. Tris, Daja, Lark, and Rosethorn would all be wearing gowns for that day, when Sandry would be wed by Moonstream at the Duke’s Citadel in just a short time. Briar, Niko, Frostpine, and the Duke would stand on the groom’s side.
“It’s my duty. I have to marry him. Besides, it’s nothing new. I knew I’d have to marry at some point. This is just the smartest match that Uncle approves of,” Sandry said patiently. She frowned at Daja’s dress clothes. “Those shouldn’t fit like that. Come here, Daj’.” She ordered the silk to sit properly, ordering to hard at first, causing the soft fabric to become stiff. Sandry took a breath and released it in the count of sevens she had learned over ten years ago.
“I didn’t even know the Bag was allowed to marry,” Briar said from his spot at the door. “I thought his vows at the temple and as First Dedicate would keep him too busy for a marriage.”
Sandry shook her head. “His elder brother died last spring in the floods that wrecked his lands and this is the only way for them to raise enough money to help. He’s going to give up his position to take care of his people.”
“He’s still just a stuffed up old fool,” muttered Briar gruffly and Sandry had to grin at him.
“You just say that because you think you have to hate him, when, in reality, you hate him as much as Rosethorn, which is not a bit,” Sandry retorted.
Briar walked over to Sandry as she stood in front of the mirror and tweaked her nose, a gesture that almost brought tears to her eyes. “Not once have you said what you think of this match.” His voice was serious, very different from his affectionate gesture. “Do you want him? Could you love him?” her brother asked.
Sandry avoided looking in his eyes, looking at her reflection for a while as she gathered her thoughts. “He is strong and confident. He believes in my magic and me being my own person. He’s been there for years, almost as long as you all have been. Since the plague, I’ve cared for him and when I had to spin the unmagic-“ they all shuddered, having shared her memories of that night long before now “-he’s been there to help. It could be worse.”
“That’s a politician’s answer,” Daja accused.
“I don’t know if I love him,” Sandry snapped. “I just know that I have to.” More quietly she added, “It could be worse. I like him and he, me. If we could love, I don’t know. But we have an understanding and I do care for him.”
“Enough to take him as your husband? Enough to bind yourself to him in a thread that won’t be broken until death?” insisted Tris now. “Enough to bear his children, to care for him and them when they are sick, to be bound to his lands even after he’s dead? Enough to travel away from here and us to be his wife?”
Sandry sat on the little divan placed in the room. She pulled out the thread circle that was the four of them. “Are we ever so far apart as that?” she asked, not wanting to answer all of those questions.
She was answered with silence. She gave a small little smirk before becoming grim. “Honestly, I don’t know the answers to those. Most times, I find myself thinking yes. While you were all traveling, I was here and so was he. Our paths crossed many times and they continued to cross even after you returned. It’s like a loom and him and I are weaving a pattern that I cannot see yet.”
She looked up to see their reactions. Tris and Briar still did not look happy, and Tris still seemed as though she thought the whole matter a great injustice. Daja simply watched her.
“Say you understand,” Sandry pleaded quietly, clutching the circle in her hands.
“Saati, if you cannot see the pattern, how are we to?” Daja asked finally. Sandry started to speak, but she held up her hand, the brass on the back of it gleaming in the light coming in the window. “However, it is a pattern you are forging for yourself. We can no more stop you from this decision than we can take away your noble status and your duty to do this as part of it. I only hope that the metal comes out of the fire stronger than ever.”
A knock came at the door. Lark poked her head in, already changed and ready. “Sandry? It’s time. They’re waiting.” Sandry nodded and Lark left, knowing the four needed the last few moments together.
“Are you sure about this?” Briar asked at last, looking at his feet.
Sandry nodded. He sighed and looked back up. He flashed a smile that she knew he didn’t quite feel and tweaked her nose again. “He’s not so bad, so long as he doesn’t put on his Bag act too much and doesn’t start fussing.” With a nod, he stepped out swiftly; his eyes wide open so no one could mistake his bright eyes as sparkling with tears.
Tris sighed explosively. “But he’s so old,” she complained to no one in particular. She followed Briar out without another word, her twin braids around her face sparking only slightly.
Only Daja and Sandry were left now. They looked at each other for a moment more before Daja offered her hand. “Ready?”
Sandry nodded and took her hand. A short time later, Sandrilene fa Toren was wedded to First Dedicate of the Air Temple, Isas Crane.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!