Post by wordy on Mar 16, 2012 18:00:48 GMT 10
Title: Four
Rating: G
Prompt: #64 the one that got away
Summary: Niklaren Goldeye was one of the few who understood the intricacies of her mind: that there was a place for everything; balance; order.
Honoured Moonstream, Dedicate Superior of Winding Circle, rested her hands in the lap of her blue robe and surveyed her dinner companion in silence. The tea in front of her had gone cold long before, but after a moment she reached out and turned the teacup a quarter to the right, the handle facing away from her. She felt Niko’s eyes on her. Niklaren Goldeye was one of the few who understood the intricacies of her mind: that there was a place for everything; balance; order.
“I would have thought there were more important matters to occupy your time,” said Niko finally, breaking his silence, “than four children.”
Moonstream let herself smile, and arched an eyebrow. “Ah, but they have not been children for a long time, have they?”
“Perhaps it is a sign of the old man I have become, this willingness to dwell on their youth.” He paused, and ran a finger along the pale tablecloth. Flickers of magic trailed his touch, hinting at the spells woven into the fabric. He looked up at her from under bushy eyebrows. “But you didn’t invite me here to reminisce.”
Once, a dinner such as this one would have been the prelude to something else. Even looking across the table at him now brought back the warm glow of her desire. She returned her hands to her lap and sought to calm her breathing, to centre herself—
But that fire had died long ago, banked under the cold ashes of duty. Balance.
She hadn’t invited him here tonight to reminisce. Two days past, she had caught sight of Dedicate Briarmoss as she had passed by the Hub; he was a child no longer, dressed in green robes, though his behaviour sometimes hinted otherwise. Moonstream pursed her lips to contain her smile. It was so easy to overlook such a mage. She knew that the young man spent most of his time divided between Dedicate Crane’s experiments and volunteering at Urda’s House. He was prickly yet kind, much like his name; much like his teacher.
Daja Kisubo was an unknown compared to her foster-brother. As far as Moonstream had heard, the smith-mage was still abroad, making—increasing—her fortune. She had taken her vows almost three years ago, but nothing at Winding Circle had managed to stay her. She visited, of course, but not as frequently as Moonstream would like for a Dedicate. The Kisubo girl had even kept her name, and her Trader gods too.
“Have you Seen anything?” Moonstream asked Niko, voice soft. He was, she knew, quite at the heart of the matter, though neither of them wished to voice the fact. Niko was not even a Dedicate, had no binding connection to the temple: if he discovered something, something vital, would he tell her?
“No,” he answered, and they had been friends for long enough that she could read the truth on his face. “Nothing of import.”
“Hmm.”
They fell into a comfortable silence—though few minutes had passed before Niko broke it again, and asked her, “What of Sandrilene?”
Sandrilene. Perhaps that was another sign of Niko’s growing older. The thought made Moonstream smile. “She is settling in as well as we could have hoped. She still wears her mourning clothes, but that is to be expected. I offered her Discipline—at least until Dedicates Rosethorn and Lark return.” She didn’t add that she was considering making the move permanent; for all that she was still grieving, Lady Sandrilene had much to offer the younger Initiates.
And that left them with Trisana Chandler.
After seeing Niko to the door, and clearing away the tea things, Moonstream sat back in her chair and rested her cheek in her hand. Winding Circle was the temple for ambient teachings; the Dedicates already in service were remarkable, in terms of both experience and talent. It had taken her uncle’s death and a failed marriage to bring one ambient mage home to Winding Circle; Moonstream’s heart still ached for the loss of Vedris, and she sincerely hoped that nothing quite so tragic would be the catalyst of Tris’s return.
No matter how many months—or years—it took, Moonstream was certain that Niko’s student would come home. Tris’s family was here, her only family that mattered.
Time passed slowly, until Moonstream roused herself, vacating her chair and her thoughts. There was always much to be done. It would be a long wait.
Rating: G
Prompt: #64 the one that got away
Summary: Niklaren Goldeye was one of the few who understood the intricacies of her mind: that there was a place for everything; balance; order.
Honoured Moonstream, Dedicate Superior of Winding Circle, rested her hands in the lap of her blue robe and surveyed her dinner companion in silence. The tea in front of her had gone cold long before, but after a moment she reached out and turned the teacup a quarter to the right, the handle facing away from her. She felt Niko’s eyes on her. Niklaren Goldeye was one of the few who understood the intricacies of her mind: that there was a place for everything; balance; order.
“I would have thought there were more important matters to occupy your time,” said Niko finally, breaking his silence, “than four children.”
Moonstream let herself smile, and arched an eyebrow. “Ah, but they have not been children for a long time, have they?”
“Perhaps it is a sign of the old man I have become, this willingness to dwell on their youth.” He paused, and ran a finger along the pale tablecloth. Flickers of magic trailed his touch, hinting at the spells woven into the fabric. He looked up at her from under bushy eyebrows. “But you didn’t invite me here to reminisce.”
Once, a dinner such as this one would have been the prelude to something else. Even looking across the table at him now brought back the warm glow of her desire. She returned her hands to her lap and sought to calm her breathing, to centre herself—
But that fire had died long ago, banked under the cold ashes of duty. Balance.
She hadn’t invited him here tonight to reminisce. Two days past, she had caught sight of Dedicate Briarmoss as she had passed by the Hub; he was a child no longer, dressed in green robes, though his behaviour sometimes hinted otherwise. Moonstream pursed her lips to contain her smile. It was so easy to overlook such a mage. She knew that the young man spent most of his time divided between Dedicate Crane’s experiments and volunteering at Urda’s House. He was prickly yet kind, much like his name; much like his teacher.
Daja Kisubo was an unknown compared to her foster-brother. As far as Moonstream had heard, the smith-mage was still abroad, making—increasing—her fortune. She had taken her vows almost three years ago, but nothing at Winding Circle had managed to stay her. She visited, of course, but not as frequently as Moonstream would like for a Dedicate. The Kisubo girl had even kept her name, and her Trader gods too.
“Have you Seen anything?” Moonstream asked Niko, voice soft. He was, she knew, quite at the heart of the matter, though neither of them wished to voice the fact. Niko was not even a Dedicate, had no binding connection to the temple: if he discovered something, something vital, would he tell her?
“No,” he answered, and they had been friends for long enough that she could read the truth on his face. “Nothing of import.”
“Hmm.”
They fell into a comfortable silence—though few minutes had passed before Niko broke it again, and asked her, “What of Sandrilene?”
Sandrilene. Perhaps that was another sign of Niko’s growing older. The thought made Moonstream smile. “She is settling in as well as we could have hoped. She still wears her mourning clothes, but that is to be expected. I offered her Discipline—at least until Dedicates Rosethorn and Lark return.” She didn’t add that she was considering making the move permanent; for all that she was still grieving, Lady Sandrilene had much to offer the younger Initiates.
And that left them with Trisana Chandler.
After seeing Niko to the door, and clearing away the tea things, Moonstream sat back in her chair and rested her cheek in her hand. Winding Circle was the temple for ambient teachings; the Dedicates already in service were remarkable, in terms of both experience and talent. It had taken her uncle’s death and a failed marriage to bring one ambient mage home to Winding Circle; Moonstream’s heart still ached for the loss of Vedris, and she sincerely hoped that nothing quite so tragic would be the catalyst of Tris’s return.
No matter how many months—or years—it took, Moonstream was certain that Niko’s student would come home. Tris’s family was here, her only family that mattered.
Time passed slowly, until Moonstream roused herself, vacating her chair and her thoughts. There was always much to be done. It would be a long wait.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!