Post by Rosie on Dec 13, 2011 22:22:11 GMT 10
To: Muse
Message: Sincerely enjoyed the chance to write for somebody who has embraced Ficmas as thoroughly as you! All the best for the holiday season, and I hope this was something like what you wanted.
From: Rosie
Title: Playing at the Divine
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1. Character exploration of Roger, Alanna, Thom. #3. Delia and Alex
Summary (and any warnings): Delia encourages Thom to play with the gods' power. Warning for implicit, off-screen character death and implicit, off-screen sex.
--
"If you're such a great mage, why don't we see you doing anything? Why has nobody outside Corus heard the name 'Thom of Trebond'?"
He knew what she was doing, of course. Delia was the type to use a hammer to crack an eggshell. Thom couldn't deny that the hammer niggled, though, that fragments of eggshell hadn't caught in his skin and festered there.
The truly great mages performed unthinkable feats.
Magic permeated his entire being. Sometimes, he was even surprised to glance down and see flesh where he thought purple fire should be.
He knew it wasn't like that for Alanna. It was odd, to resemble somebody so strongly and to love them so fiercely, but to be their complete opposite at the same time. He supposed Alanna was his mirror image, with everything on the wrong side.
People loved her better. Even Thom had noticed that, when he had a care. But people were weak and they slowed you down, and he had no time for their silly concerns. He looked at some of them, those friends of hers, and pitied them. Jonathan was brimming with talent, but hadn't a clue how to go about using it. Alanna herself let her powers go to waste.
What Thom craved, what Delia was tapping into, was appreciation. Somebody who understood just how good he was, and who wasn't frightened by it - not like those woolly-brained mages at the City of the Gods.
That led him where all roads seemed to have been leading him for the past few years - to Roger of Conte.
Raising the dead was fool's work, unless one had the strength of mind to control the shade. Roger would understand Thom, and then Thom would bring him to his knees. Again.
He jutted his jaw, pressing his face against the cool window. Could he do this to Alanna? Surely Alanna of all people would understand that Thom needed, thirsted to test himself against the best. Whilst he didn't consider Roger to be the best, Thom had hoped that he would be the Trebond twin to bring the sorceror down.
Thom sighed, and closed his eyes. Not yet. He would prove himself in other ways. Roger was dangerous, and best left alone.
--
"The fire's almost out, Lord Thom. Could you warm it up a little - or is that beyond you also?"
"You're playing a dangerous game."
Delia stood, framed in the window, the candlelight flickering over her silhouette. She was as remarkably pretty as she had always been, Alex thought, though he regarded her objectively. Without Roger, he would have had no interest in her. Roger had pulled them together, and the loss of Roger bound them still.
"I have always played dangerous games, Tirragen," she responded lightly, laughter dancing at the edge of her words. "I do not require you to join in, if you would rather play it safe."
He would, as a matter of fact. Alex had no desire to end up fried by one of the Trebond lord's outbursts, which were far more dangerous than his twin's due to the magic which collected at his fingertips.
He neglected to share this with Delia, because she would merely laugh at him and call him names. Delia had no real concept of what she was dealing with, thought that a few nights with Roger had given her a true understanding of magic.
"You don't understand Trebond."
This made her turn from the window, the glow from the candle lighting her face and making her eyes look, well, fanatical. "And you do, I suppose? From all your cosy dealings with his sister? Let me tell you, Alex, that woman and I shared a lover. Out of the two of us, I think I have a closer claim on knowing the fairest knight in the land."
It was difficult to deny this, when Alex had purposefully steered clear of Alan for years. Roger had even said, towards the end, that if Alex had pursued the friendship, had drawn Alan closer to him, they might have successfully been rid of the boy. Girl.
"Trebond," Delia drawled, making her way back to the bed, "wants to be a god, as much as I want to be queen - to be Roger's queen. I'm just helping him along the road to realisation."
Alex flinched as she slid under the covers next to him. She noticed, and smirked, tracing a pattern up his bare arm with her cold fingers. "What's wrong, Alex? You weren't complaining before. Or did you think you were going to be Roger's queen?"
That was enough. He didn't want this, and right now, he couldn't stand to be near her. Alex fumbled for his breeches. "Go to sleep, Delia. You might as well; I'm off to sleep in your bed."
Message: Sincerely enjoyed the chance to write for somebody who has embraced Ficmas as thoroughly as you! All the best for the holiday season, and I hope this was something like what you wanted.
From: Rosie
Title: Playing at the Divine
Rating: PG-13
Wishlist Item: #1. Character exploration of Roger, Alanna, Thom. #3. Delia and Alex
Summary (and any warnings): Delia encourages Thom to play with the gods' power. Warning for implicit, off-screen character death and implicit, off-screen sex.
--
"If you're such a great mage, why don't we see you doing anything? Why has nobody outside Corus heard the name 'Thom of Trebond'?"
He knew what she was doing, of course. Delia was the type to use a hammer to crack an eggshell. Thom couldn't deny that the hammer niggled, though, that fragments of eggshell hadn't caught in his skin and festered there.
The truly great mages performed unthinkable feats.
Magic permeated his entire being. Sometimes, he was even surprised to glance down and see flesh where he thought purple fire should be.
He knew it wasn't like that for Alanna. It was odd, to resemble somebody so strongly and to love them so fiercely, but to be their complete opposite at the same time. He supposed Alanna was his mirror image, with everything on the wrong side.
People loved her better. Even Thom had noticed that, when he had a care. But people were weak and they slowed you down, and he had no time for their silly concerns. He looked at some of them, those friends of hers, and pitied them. Jonathan was brimming with talent, but hadn't a clue how to go about using it. Alanna herself let her powers go to waste.
What Thom craved, what Delia was tapping into, was appreciation. Somebody who understood just how good he was, and who wasn't frightened by it - not like those woolly-brained mages at the City of the Gods.
That led him where all roads seemed to have been leading him for the past few years - to Roger of Conte.
Raising the dead was fool's work, unless one had the strength of mind to control the shade. Roger would understand Thom, and then Thom would bring him to his knees. Again.
He jutted his jaw, pressing his face against the cool window. Could he do this to Alanna? Surely Alanna of all people would understand that Thom needed, thirsted to test himself against the best. Whilst he didn't consider Roger to be the best, Thom had hoped that he would be the Trebond twin to bring the sorceror down.
Thom sighed, and closed his eyes. Not yet. He would prove himself in other ways. Roger was dangerous, and best left alone.
--
"The fire's almost out, Lord Thom. Could you warm it up a little - or is that beyond you also?"
"You're playing a dangerous game."
Delia stood, framed in the window, the candlelight flickering over her silhouette. She was as remarkably pretty as she had always been, Alex thought, though he regarded her objectively. Without Roger, he would have had no interest in her. Roger had pulled them together, and the loss of Roger bound them still.
"I have always played dangerous games, Tirragen," she responded lightly, laughter dancing at the edge of her words. "I do not require you to join in, if you would rather play it safe."
He would, as a matter of fact. Alex had no desire to end up fried by one of the Trebond lord's outbursts, which were far more dangerous than his twin's due to the magic which collected at his fingertips.
He neglected to share this with Delia, because she would merely laugh at him and call him names. Delia had no real concept of what she was dealing with, thought that a few nights with Roger had given her a true understanding of magic.
"You don't understand Trebond."
This made her turn from the window, the glow from the candle lighting her face and making her eyes look, well, fanatical. "And you do, I suppose? From all your cosy dealings with his sister? Let me tell you, Alex, that woman and I shared a lover. Out of the two of us, I think I have a closer claim on knowing the fairest knight in the land."
It was difficult to deny this, when Alex had purposefully steered clear of Alan for years. Roger had even said, towards the end, that if Alex had pursued the friendship, had drawn Alan closer to him, they might have successfully been rid of the boy. Girl.
"Trebond," Delia drawled, making her way back to the bed, "wants to be a god, as much as I want to be queen - to be Roger's queen. I'm just helping him along the road to realisation."
Alex flinched as she slid under the covers next to him. She noticed, and smirked, tracing a pattern up his bare arm with her cold fingers. "What's wrong, Alex? You weren't complaining before. Or did you think you were going to be Roger's queen?"
That was enough. He didn't want this, and right now, he couldn't stand to be near her. Alex fumbled for his breeches. "Go to sleep, Delia. You might as well; I'm off to sleep in your bed."