Post by Lisa on Feb 1, 2010 2:03:47 GMT 10
Title: Unraveled
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Allusions to sex, Circle-cest
Summary: Before heading their separate ways, the four mages spend a last night together and sample a bit of wine. This is the aftermath or such experimentation.
Note: An old one, but worth posting, I think.
When they awoke the next morning, they found themselves not only with headaches that made them feel like the earth had quaked around them, but with the walls and roof of the barn in shambles to prove that it had.
“I think you’re responsible for that,” Briar said to Tris, nodding at a large pile of debris at her feet.
“Not just me,” she snapped pulling her loose sleeve back up above her shoulder. “Daja helped.”
Daja was curled up on the other side of Briar. “Is it time to go to the forge?” she murmured. “I don’t think I’ll be much good today.”
“None of us will,” Sandry said practically. “I’m as weak as a kitten, but I got the clothes back together properly after the random unraveling last night. I didn’t think it would be good if we overslept and were discovered here the way we were.” A flush crossed her cheeks.
“You might want to do something about the greenery,” Tris said wryly, looking at the tall grass that was practically hiding them, and the large willow tree that stood where the center of the barn had been the evening before.
“Yes, indeed you might,” a sharp voice replied, cutting through even Daja’s sleepy mind.
“I believe you were supposed to come in before the midnight service,” Lark commented, hiding a grin with some difficulty. Her dark eyes looked amused as she surveyed the wreckage.
Rosethorn rummaged through the debris, locating several bottles. “I imagine these were nicked from the kitchens?” she asked her student with an arched eyebrow. “The only alcohol at Discipline Cottage is medicinal. Didn’t I tell you that it’s not wise for mages to drink more than their bodies can tolerate?”
Daja pulled herself to her knees, clutching her head. “We listened to you – honest. But we also thought we should know how much our bodies could tolerate. We’ll all be in society someday. Sandry will be at court. What happens if she is offered wine and—”
“And she suddenly unravels the clothes of half the nobles?” Lark finished. “Or if hinges of doors and nails holding up lofts were to suddenly rust? Or if strong winds knocked down an entire building?”
“Or if a tree suddenly grew up through the rafters before the building fell?” Rosethorn’s voice was harsh, but her expression allowed for a degree of sympathy.
“How do you know how it happened?” Sandry asked. She looked her teacher in the eye, no ounce of shame or worry marring her face.
Lark and Rosethorn exchanged looks. “We know your magic well enough to know what might happen that would give these kinds of results. You will need rest before you set it all to rights, of course. It will give you time to think of what kind of methods you might use to magically restore it to the way it was.” Lark shook her head, her thoughts unknown to the four, and she headed back toward Discipline with Rosethorn.
“I want you in my garden today, boy,” the shorter woman called over her shoulder. “This is not a valid excuse, as you won’t need magic to do some weeding.”
“We got off easy,” Sandry said when they were out of earshot.
“They were young mages once, too,” Daja replied rationally. Surveying the mess, she said “it’s not too easy, though. How do I magically restore a rusty nail to its full potential?”
“But what about... everything else from last night?” Tris looked no one in the eye.
Briar rose to his feet, shuffling uncomfortably. “I guess we have to restore that to what it was before we came to this barn, too. I mean, you kids are my mates, my sisters – it doesn’t have to change now, does it?”
Daja smiled bashfully up at him. “Not at all. Think of everything as... a going away present.”
Sandry sniffed softly. “All this began as a going away party, after all. In one week Daja will be gone for Mila knows how long. I don’t think anything that happened last night will change that.”
Daja and Briar embraced – awkwardly at first, as they were both remembering the previous night’s intimacy. You’re my saati, too, Daja mind spoke, just for him. It’s not just for girls, you know.
He grinned as they pulled apart. “You’ll always be my mate, Daj.” My very first one.
Briar pulled Sandry to her feet. Good thinking with the clothes this morning. He yanked one of her very loose, very disheveled braids. We should look for breakfast.
That’s just like you Briar, she teased him. You’re all sweetness and suaveness when you want something out of a girl, but you’re the same old street urchin in the morning, more concerned about your next meal than you are about anything else.
“We’re going to be fine without Daj when she heads off for Namorn, right?” he asked Tris and Sandry.
We’ll get to test the strength of our mind-speaking magic, then, won’t we?
Sandry smiled and pulled Tris to her feet. “Trust you to be academic at a time when you should be emotional.”
Tris flushed. “I’ve used up my bit of sappiness for the year,” she said, and the other three were able to see her flashes of memories – tender kisses, awkward caresses, and far too many hands for the average love scene.
“It’s so we don’t forget one another,” Sandry said, chin high.
“As if we could,” Tris muttered, still looking neither in the eye. "It doesn't make it right, though. Maybe parting is good."
“First Daja, then you, Coppercurls.” Briar’s voice was sad. He instinctively went to touch Tris’s braid, but halted. He hadn’t learned which ones were safe. Besides – pulling Tris’s hair never got the warm smile or delicate huff of annoyance that it got from Sandry. It usually got him shocked with an angry spark of lightning.
“What will I come back to?” Daja asked softly, touching Sandry’s hand. “Will you and Tris... or Briar and I...?” She trailed off, afraid to make actual words of the actions that had passed between them.
“Of course not,” Tris snapped. “Sandry was right – this was our way of saying goodbye. And learning.”
“Learning not to let Lady Sandrilene drink more than three glasses,” Briar snickered. It had all happened at Sandry’s instigation, after all.
“That’s not entirely true,” she protested, sounding as regal as she did when trying to prove her veracity. “While I might have... made the first move among us, I would note that Briar was very quick to start his own fun with Daja.”
“I started that,” Daja murmured, examining the living metal on her hand in an effort to avoid others’ eyes.
Should we really talk about these things openly? Tris asked. There are people who are listening to every wind in this temple, and I assure you that there are plenty of winds to carry our voices to the Hub!
“Fine then.” Sandy said with a degree of finality. “We’ll speak of nothing and pretend it never happened, and you’ll all carry it with you as you travel around the world – since we can’t replicate the thread.”
“Works for me,” Briar said with a shrug. You were the one to come to me, too, he said to Sandry, grinning mischievously. Can’t be satisfied with one play toy, can you? Just like a noble.
She glared at him and then picked up her sewing kit – surprisingly undamaged – from the ground. “I have weaving to do. Lark would be disappointed if I let it go undone, no matter how queasy my stomach is feeling.” With that she spun gracefully toward the cottage and marched off at a deliberate pace.
Daja straightened her tunic. The threads were unusually willful, and the wrinkles didn’t fall out right away. “Rosethorn won’t give us anything for these headaches. I wonder if Frostpine will have something.” With that she staggered off toward the forge.
Tris watched her, feeling Briar’s eyes on her. Whatever you’re thinking, you might as well spit it out.
He grinned. I didn’t get a chance to kiss you last night, Coppercurls, he answered. You were engrossed with Sandry.
And you with Daja! And Sandry!
Briar shrugged. I’m not one to turn down a pretty girl.
Tris said nothing, but her scowl deepened.
And you’re a pretty girl, too, Tris. Don’t let any stupid person let you think differently.
Hands in his pockets, he sauntered off toward the Hub, whistling.
Tris surveyed the mess and sighed. Time to start reading, searching for spell ideas to set everything to rights again.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Allusions to sex, Circle-cest
Summary: Before heading their separate ways, the four mages spend a last night together and sample a bit of wine. This is the aftermath or such experimentation.
Note: An old one, but worth posting, I think.
When they awoke the next morning, they found themselves not only with headaches that made them feel like the earth had quaked around them, but with the walls and roof of the barn in shambles to prove that it had.
“I think you’re responsible for that,” Briar said to Tris, nodding at a large pile of debris at her feet.
“Not just me,” she snapped pulling her loose sleeve back up above her shoulder. “Daja helped.”
Daja was curled up on the other side of Briar. “Is it time to go to the forge?” she murmured. “I don’t think I’ll be much good today.”
“None of us will,” Sandry said practically. “I’m as weak as a kitten, but I got the clothes back together properly after the random unraveling last night. I didn’t think it would be good if we overslept and were discovered here the way we were.” A flush crossed her cheeks.
“You might want to do something about the greenery,” Tris said wryly, looking at the tall grass that was practically hiding them, and the large willow tree that stood where the center of the barn had been the evening before.
“Yes, indeed you might,” a sharp voice replied, cutting through even Daja’s sleepy mind.
“I believe you were supposed to come in before the midnight service,” Lark commented, hiding a grin with some difficulty. Her dark eyes looked amused as she surveyed the wreckage.
Rosethorn rummaged through the debris, locating several bottles. “I imagine these were nicked from the kitchens?” she asked her student with an arched eyebrow. “The only alcohol at Discipline Cottage is medicinal. Didn’t I tell you that it’s not wise for mages to drink more than their bodies can tolerate?”
Daja pulled herself to her knees, clutching her head. “We listened to you – honest. But we also thought we should know how much our bodies could tolerate. We’ll all be in society someday. Sandry will be at court. What happens if she is offered wine and—”
“And she suddenly unravels the clothes of half the nobles?” Lark finished. “Or if hinges of doors and nails holding up lofts were to suddenly rust? Or if strong winds knocked down an entire building?”
“Or if a tree suddenly grew up through the rafters before the building fell?” Rosethorn’s voice was harsh, but her expression allowed for a degree of sympathy.
“How do you know how it happened?” Sandry asked. She looked her teacher in the eye, no ounce of shame or worry marring her face.
Lark and Rosethorn exchanged looks. “We know your magic well enough to know what might happen that would give these kinds of results. You will need rest before you set it all to rights, of course. It will give you time to think of what kind of methods you might use to magically restore it to the way it was.” Lark shook her head, her thoughts unknown to the four, and she headed back toward Discipline with Rosethorn.
“I want you in my garden today, boy,” the shorter woman called over her shoulder. “This is not a valid excuse, as you won’t need magic to do some weeding.”
“We got off easy,” Sandry said when they were out of earshot.
“They were young mages once, too,” Daja replied rationally. Surveying the mess, she said “it’s not too easy, though. How do I magically restore a rusty nail to its full potential?”
“But what about... everything else from last night?” Tris looked no one in the eye.
Briar rose to his feet, shuffling uncomfortably. “I guess we have to restore that to what it was before we came to this barn, too. I mean, you kids are my mates, my sisters – it doesn’t have to change now, does it?”
Daja smiled bashfully up at him. “Not at all. Think of everything as... a going away present.”
Sandry sniffed softly. “All this began as a going away party, after all. In one week Daja will be gone for Mila knows how long. I don’t think anything that happened last night will change that.”
Daja and Briar embraced – awkwardly at first, as they were both remembering the previous night’s intimacy. You’re my saati, too, Daja mind spoke, just for him. It’s not just for girls, you know.
He grinned as they pulled apart. “You’ll always be my mate, Daj.” My very first one.
Briar pulled Sandry to her feet. Good thinking with the clothes this morning. He yanked one of her very loose, very disheveled braids. We should look for breakfast.
That’s just like you Briar, she teased him. You’re all sweetness and suaveness when you want something out of a girl, but you’re the same old street urchin in the morning, more concerned about your next meal than you are about anything else.
“We’re going to be fine without Daj when she heads off for Namorn, right?” he asked Tris and Sandry.
We’ll get to test the strength of our mind-speaking magic, then, won’t we?
Sandry smiled and pulled Tris to her feet. “Trust you to be academic at a time when you should be emotional.”
Tris flushed. “I’ve used up my bit of sappiness for the year,” she said, and the other three were able to see her flashes of memories – tender kisses, awkward caresses, and far too many hands for the average love scene.
“It’s so we don’t forget one another,” Sandry said, chin high.
“As if we could,” Tris muttered, still looking neither in the eye. "It doesn't make it right, though. Maybe parting is good."
“First Daja, then you, Coppercurls.” Briar’s voice was sad. He instinctively went to touch Tris’s braid, but halted. He hadn’t learned which ones were safe. Besides – pulling Tris’s hair never got the warm smile or delicate huff of annoyance that it got from Sandry. It usually got him shocked with an angry spark of lightning.
“What will I come back to?” Daja asked softly, touching Sandry’s hand. “Will you and Tris... or Briar and I...?” She trailed off, afraid to make actual words of the actions that had passed between them.
“Of course not,” Tris snapped. “Sandry was right – this was our way of saying goodbye. And learning.”
“Learning not to let Lady Sandrilene drink more than three glasses,” Briar snickered. It had all happened at Sandry’s instigation, after all.
“That’s not entirely true,” she protested, sounding as regal as she did when trying to prove her veracity. “While I might have... made the first move among us, I would note that Briar was very quick to start his own fun with Daja.”
“I started that,” Daja murmured, examining the living metal on her hand in an effort to avoid others’ eyes.
Should we really talk about these things openly? Tris asked. There are people who are listening to every wind in this temple, and I assure you that there are plenty of winds to carry our voices to the Hub!
“Fine then.” Sandy said with a degree of finality. “We’ll speak of nothing and pretend it never happened, and you’ll all carry it with you as you travel around the world – since we can’t replicate the thread.”
“Works for me,” Briar said with a shrug. You were the one to come to me, too, he said to Sandry, grinning mischievously. Can’t be satisfied with one play toy, can you? Just like a noble.
She glared at him and then picked up her sewing kit – surprisingly undamaged – from the ground. “I have weaving to do. Lark would be disappointed if I let it go undone, no matter how queasy my stomach is feeling.” With that she spun gracefully toward the cottage and marched off at a deliberate pace.
Daja straightened her tunic. The threads were unusually willful, and the wrinkles didn’t fall out right away. “Rosethorn won’t give us anything for these headaches. I wonder if Frostpine will have something.” With that she staggered off toward the forge.
Tris watched her, feeling Briar’s eyes on her. Whatever you’re thinking, you might as well spit it out.
He grinned. I didn’t get a chance to kiss you last night, Coppercurls, he answered. You were engrossed with Sandry.
And you with Daja! And Sandry!
Briar shrugged. I’m not one to turn down a pretty girl.
Tris said nothing, but her scowl deepened.
And you’re a pretty girl, too, Tris. Don’t let any stupid person let you think differently.
Hands in his pockets, he sauntered off toward the Hub, whistling.
Tris surveyed the mess and sighed. Time to start reading, searching for spell ideas to set everything to rights again.