Post by Rachy on Dec 23, 2012 15:35:08 GMT 10
To: Katty
Message: Merry Ficmas! I loved having the chance to write for you, and after looking at your prompts, I decided to keep it within the holiday spirit with some bittersweet Conte family fluff, though Roger regrettably did not make an appearance and it's a bit dialogue-heavy. I hope you enjoy it, and have a happy and wonderful Christmas and New Year! ♥
From: Rachy
Title: Don’t Dream It’s Over
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2354 words
Prompt: #1: Contes at a special occasion.
Summary: Midwinter means the end of a year, and the start of new beginnings. For the Conte family, it means embracing the Midwinter spirit for what could be the last time all together.
The door echoes heavily behind her, and her riding boots click as she stalks across the stone floors. Vania perches herself carefully on a chair, looking to her sisters for a reaction. Lianne lies on a chaise lounge, reading, and Kalasin is tracing a line of stitching in her embroidery.
“I don't see why Father was so annoyed about it.” Vania stares pleadingly at her sisters, irritably flicking her hair away from her face. Kalasin gives her youngest sister a look, calmly unpicking a stitch.
“Papa had every right to be annoyed, darling. You disappeared for a whole day without telling anyone where you were going.”
“But I was with Zahir! If he cannot trust me to go out riding with his barely former squire, what hope do I have? It was only riding!” She rolls her eyes and grumpily slouches.
“Yes, but you didn't tell anyone that you were going riding. In Papa's eyes you'd disappeared.” She raises her eyebrows, and Vania purses her lips.
“It wasn't enough to tell me that I wasn't allowed to dance with anyone but family at the next ball.”
“It's not as though Papa is the only man you can dance with.” Lianne says, looking over her book.
“But I am related in some way to all of them! And if not than I may as well be.” She pauses. “Or they're old.” She waits for the amused huff and smiles from her sisters, and continues.
”Father acts like he and Mother never did anything fun when they were young. Father rode to the desert with only Sir Myles. He was the Crown Prince. Myles doesn't like using his sword ever, and if they'd been attacked father would have had to defend himself with his own sword.”
“Myles wouldn't have stood by and watched while Papa saved his own life.” Kally reasons.
“Still. Papa did far more risky things when he was the only heir. All I did was go riding and I am his well and true spare heir. If some tragic circumstances ensued and you all died –“
“So in the Midwinter spirit, Vania!”
“If you all died, and I was the only one left, I'm positive they would offer the throne to Cousin Maura instead.” Vania said determinedly.
“You have put far too much thought into this.”
“Well she is much more suited than I am. She already has her own council, she is older, and she already has dealt with attempted takeovers and harmonious inter species relationships and rebellious family members. All the makings of a queen.“
“Vania, you have virtues. You would be a good queen if the need did arise.” Lianne smiles, as Vania raise her eyebrows and looks sceptical.
“She wouldn't have all of her siblings for guidance.” Kally said.
“But neither will you. And my only virtue is to have more suitors than you have had. Though that is because I did not get betrothed before I had my season.” Vania teases, a familiar joke.
“There is still some years before you are out. You might meet some prince that Father wants you to marry. And I did not get betrothed until after my season began.”
“So all of your letters to Emperor Kaddar before that were to acquaint him with your skills at prose and impress him with your writing?” Lianne sets down her book, and raises an eyebrow.
“No, they were building up a friendship.” Kally replies, raising her eyebrows back.
“A fine friendship indeed if you wrote once a week. You would have put the ships in trade themselves.” Kally gives her a glare, but Vania only smirks. “What in the Goddess did you have to talk of?”
“What I thought of Carthak. What he thought of Tortall. What he did with his days. What I did with mine.” Kalasin ticks them off on her fingers as she speaks, a smile lingering on her face. “Dreams. Fears. Books. Flowers. Our Gifts. Sometimes a passage we had liked, a song we had heard, or a topic that was being discussed, a theory. Poetry.”
“You wrote him poetry, didn't you?” Lianne asks, keeping her face straight.
“No!” Colour rises in her cheeks, but Kally’s voice remains indignant, holding back her amusement.”We spoke of everything and nothing.”
“So how much you would like to be his wife and have his children and live happily with him till the end of days?” Vania laughs.
“No!” The teasing disappears from Kalasin’s voice, and she turns serious, morose. “That's not all my dreams are. That's not all I hope to achieve.” She pauses, and looks seriously at her sisters.
”There are many things I want to do in Carthak, and marrying Kaddar and maybe one day having his children is only one of them. Barely one of them, really, when I think of everything else there is to do that I can dream of doing. There is so much I can do in Carthak, and Kaddar agrees with me. We want to set up schools, like Mama did, and set up reading and writing and some numbers with the Mithran priests, to encourage their worship more and to provide a safe place for their teaching. I want to help the women, and help them find places where they can work or earn money independent of their husbands if they wish, and to provide them with education that they can then teach their children, and to take some I the ways the Bazhir have incorporated their horticulture and see I'd that works, and be happy. And make relations between Tortall and Carthak happy and united for a very long time. And help Kaddar with making Carthak a better place with his people.”
“He wrote you love poetry, didn't he?” Comprehension dawns on Lianne, watching Kally catch her breath. If she had spoke of Carthak in writing with as much passion to the Emperor as she had to them, it would endear her most completely to the Emperor.
“No!” Kally repeats, but her blush covers her face and her gaze is focussed on the needlework in her hands. Lianne giggles, her face morphing with delight.
“Stop it!” Kally snaps.
“Was it any good?” Vania asks eagerly.
“I'm not going to talk with you about it.” She scowls and stabs her needle viciously into her fabric.
“Was it not appropriate?” Vania wonders saucily.
“It was appropriate.” Kally states quickly, warding off her latest investigation. “It was very sweet.”
“Where is it?” Lianne asks, standing.
“You're not seeing it!”
“But what if I have a Carthaki suitor and they wrote me poetry, and I do not know if they have any skill or if it is any good because it is a completely different offering to our style?” Vania wheedles, rising and walking towards the door.
“Then you will judge for yourself.”
“But the Emperor's poetry would be perfect to pose judgement with.”
“Their poetry is not very different at all to ours, and there are several ones in the library on the subtle differences between poetry in the Common and Eastern lands.”
“We will be able to visit, won't we?” Lianne questions suddenly, leaning against Kalasin’s chair.
“Tell me you never thought otherwise.” Kally says softly, and takes Lianne’s hand. She beckons to Vania, and she perches on the edge of the chair.
“I would be most disappointed if I never saw your faces unless though spell again.” They stay quiet for a moment, heads together. “We won’t talk out of this now. It is still the old year, and my new life starts in the new year. Not yet. Not now. Now I am still your oldest sister, and I want to hear all the details of your gowns for tonight.”
“She will take it as a challenge to tell you of every last piece of embroidery.” Lianne says teasingly, and Vania smiles.
“Then, darling, you must tell me of every last stitch.” Kally smiles back, and they lapse into giggles.
x
“This may be the last time we'll all have Midwinter together.” Jasson says, bracing his foot on the full trunk and lacing his boot. Roald’s childhood room is full of trunks and saddlebags, the result of the Progress and moving out of Lord Imrah’s suite now that he was no longer a squire. Liam adjusts his tunic in the mirror, and scowls at Jasson’s reflection.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first, Roald will be married soon.”
“Not for another year, at the least. Two, even.” Roald said.
“You’ll be spending more time with Princess Shinkokami, though. And then you’ll want an heir.” Jasson smiles wryly as Roald slowly blushes, and shoots him a frustrated glare.
“Neither of those means that I would not be spending Midwinter with you. Neither of those have any effect on us spending Midwinter together! And I, that is, Shinkokami and I, have no need to have an heir right away. When we are ready. When the both of us are ready, we would have an heir. And there is no guarantee that we would have an heir.”
“Yes. When you are ready. Then you’ll have an heir. And as Liam and myself do not volunteer for any part of sitting duty with the baby, we will regrettably see less of you.” Roald rolls his eyes, but does not offer a reply. Jasson smirks.
“Why will this be the last, though?” Liam questions.
“Tensions growing with Scanra too much for it not to be.”
“Scanra?” Liam looks at Jasson quizzically. “Not so soon, surely. They won’t organize themselves that quickly.”
“Jass, we won’t all be sent off to war. One of us needs to stay out of harm’s way, even though Father fought.” Roald says, a bitter tinge to his tone.
“I'm not saying we'll all die.” He looks between his brothers. “But if tension keeps building, more than one of us will be sent off, and if it starts earlier, Kally will leave earlier to make our Carthak ties completely secure and so Emperor Kaddar can help without it being slightly touchy. Chances are Kally will leave early anyway. So this is it. Our last Midwinter.”
“Don’t tease Vania at dinner then, Liam. She’s already annoyed with Father.”
“Just as well your Ordeal went well, then, too.” Liam replies.
“Don’t.” Roald’s voice is sharp. “Not now. It is not a joke.”
“Sorry.” Liam said, looking apologetic. “Does a newly made knight want to show his superior archery skills to his undeserving younger brothers?”
“He does indeed. And then he will show both of them his superior skills in sword and staff. And then knife throwing.”
“Maybe just the archery, Roald. A newly made knight cannot think too highly of himself.” Jasson said, ducking the swing Roald aims at his head, and Roald laughs.
X
“Will you play, Mama?” Vania asks, looking up from her conference with Lianne. Thayet places a plate of biscuits and a bottle of wine on the table. She looks at Jon, who shrugs.
“We’ll watch.”
“Oh, Mama, you made the biscuits.” Kally said happily, snagging the plate from under Jasson’s reaching fingers.
“Buri and I did. She’ll give you the recipe when she sees you next, she forgot it this morning with your presents. You can make them next Midwinter, wherever you might be.”
“Thankyou, Mama. And I’ll thank Aunt Buri when I see her too.”
“Why didn’t she come to dinner?” Lianne asks curiously. Thayet flicks a look at Jon, and he smirks back.
“She’s saving Raoul from his matchmaking aunt.” Jon opens the bottle of wine and pours a glass, handing it to Thayet. He pours a splash into each of the other glasses, and beckons to his children.
“A toast.” He raises his glass, and his family follows suit. “To the good things that have been, the good things that are now, and the good things that will come. We thank the gods for our blessings, and for our families, friends, and those whom we love.”
“So mote it be.” They chorus, and clink their glasses. The children settle themselves in pairs in front of the fire, and Lianne and Vania confer quietly. Vania stands and begins to mime, and Liam and Jasson throw wild guessing into the air. Roald and Kally give more calculated judgements, and Vania begins miming more dramatically as Lianne begins to shake with laughter.
“A good day?” Thayet asks softly, nestling against his side on the lounge. He puts his arm around her, plants a kiss on her head.
“A very good day. One to remember.”
“They’ve grown so big.” She says quietly, wistfully looking down at their antics.
“We’ve just grown old.” He says wryly, and is rewarded by her laughter.
“We’re not that old. I’ve still got plenty of spring in my step.” She raises her head off his chest and gives him a look. “And I guess you’re not too bad either.”
“I’m supposed to take that as a compliment, aren’t I?” He huffs, and pokes her ribs, chuckling as she flinches.
“You will pay for that later, my lord.” Thayet says quietly, and nestles back against him. “But Happy Midwinter, my love.”
“Happy Midwinter, my darling.” He replies, and leans down and kisses her.
“How could you not tell I was a griffin?” Vania cries loudly, and her parents separate. Lianne is shaking with silent laughter, and Roald and Kally exchange bemused glances.
“Father?” Liam asks, seeking a peacemaker.
“Sweetheart, you were flapping your arms. You could have been any flying animal.” Jon says with a grin, and looks down at his wife.
“She was doing a strange twisting thing with her head.” Thayet says.
“That was a complete indication of a griffin.” Jasson says, and Vania joins in on their laughter.
“Father wants to show us how it is done properly.” Kally challenges, a mischievous smile on her face.
“Shall we?” He stands and holds his hand out to Thayet, who takes it, and they settle themselves in front of the fire amongst their children. The night disappears in the midst of laughter and happiness, and they treasure every moment.
Message: Merry Ficmas! I loved having the chance to write for you, and after looking at your prompts, I decided to keep it within the holiday spirit with some bittersweet Conte family fluff, though Roger regrettably did not make an appearance and it's a bit dialogue-heavy. I hope you enjoy it, and have a happy and wonderful Christmas and New Year! ♥
From: Rachy
Title: Don’t Dream It’s Over
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2354 words
Prompt: #1: Contes at a special occasion.
Summary: Midwinter means the end of a year, and the start of new beginnings. For the Conte family, it means embracing the Midwinter spirit for what could be the last time all together.
The door echoes heavily behind her, and her riding boots click as she stalks across the stone floors. Vania perches herself carefully on a chair, looking to her sisters for a reaction. Lianne lies on a chaise lounge, reading, and Kalasin is tracing a line of stitching in her embroidery.
“I don't see why Father was so annoyed about it.” Vania stares pleadingly at her sisters, irritably flicking her hair away from her face. Kalasin gives her youngest sister a look, calmly unpicking a stitch.
“Papa had every right to be annoyed, darling. You disappeared for a whole day without telling anyone where you were going.”
“But I was with Zahir! If he cannot trust me to go out riding with his barely former squire, what hope do I have? It was only riding!” She rolls her eyes and grumpily slouches.
“Yes, but you didn't tell anyone that you were going riding. In Papa's eyes you'd disappeared.” She raises her eyebrows, and Vania purses her lips.
“It wasn't enough to tell me that I wasn't allowed to dance with anyone but family at the next ball.”
“It's not as though Papa is the only man you can dance with.” Lianne says, looking over her book.
“But I am related in some way to all of them! And if not than I may as well be.” She pauses. “Or they're old.” She waits for the amused huff and smiles from her sisters, and continues.
”Father acts like he and Mother never did anything fun when they were young. Father rode to the desert with only Sir Myles. He was the Crown Prince. Myles doesn't like using his sword ever, and if they'd been attacked father would have had to defend himself with his own sword.”
“Myles wouldn't have stood by and watched while Papa saved his own life.” Kally reasons.
“Still. Papa did far more risky things when he was the only heir. All I did was go riding and I am his well and true spare heir. If some tragic circumstances ensued and you all died –“
“So in the Midwinter spirit, Vania!”
“If you all died, and I was the only one left, I'm positive they would offer the throne to Cousin Maura instead.” Vania said determinedly.
“You have put far too much thought into this.”
“Well she is much more suited than I am. She already has her own council, she is older, and she already has dealt with attempted takeovers and harmonious inter species relationships and rebellious family members. All the makings of a queen.“
“Vania, you have virtues. You would be a good queen if the need did arise.” Lianne smiles, as Vania raise her eyebrows and looks sceptical.
“She wouldn't have all of her siblings for guidance.” Kally said.
“But neither will you. And my only virtue is to have more suitors than you have had. Though that is because I did not get betrothed before I had my season.” Vania teases, a familiar joke.
“There is still some years before you are out. You might meet some prince that Father wants you to marry. And I did not get betrothed until after my season began.”
“So all of your letters to Emperor Kaddar before that were to acquaint him with your skills at prose and impress him with your writing?” Lianne sets down her book, and raises an eyebrow.
“No, they were building up a friendship.” Kally replies, raising her eyebrows back.
“A fine friendship indeed if you wrote once a week. You would have put the ships in trade themselves.” Kally gives her a glare, but Vania only smirks. “What in the Goddess did you have to talk of?”
“What I thought of Carthak. What he thought of Tortall. What he did with his days. What I did with mine.” Kalasin ticks them off on her fingers as she speaks, a smile lingering on her face. “Dreams. Fears. Books. Flowers. Our Gifts. Sometimes a passage we had liked, a song we had heard, or a topic that was being discussed, a theory. Poetry.”
“You wrote him poetry, didn't you?” Lianne asks, keeping her face straight.
“No!” Colour rises in her cheeks, but Kally’s voice remains indignant, holding back her amusement.”We spoke of everything and nothing.”
“So how much you would like to be his wife and have his children and live happily with him till the end of days?” Vania laughs.
“No!” The teasing disappears from Kalasin’s voice, and she turns serious, morose. “That's not all my dreams are. That's not all I hope to achieve.” She pauses, and looks seriously at her sisters.
”There are many things I want to do in Carthak, and marrying Kaddar and maybe one day having his children is only one of them. Barely one of them, really, when I think of everything else there is to do that I can dream of doing. There is so much I can do in Carthak, and Kaddar agrees with me. We want to set up schools, like Mama did, and set up reading and writing and some numbers with the Mithran priests, to encourage their worship more and to provide a safe place for their teaching. I want to help the women, and help them find places where they can work or earn money independent of their husbands if they wish, and to provide them with education that they can then teach their children, and to take some I the ways the Bazhir have incorporated their horticulture and see I'd that works, and be happy. And make relations between Tortall and Carthak happy and united for a very long time. And help Kaddar with making Carthak a better place with his people.”
“He wrote you love poetry, didn't he?” Comprehension dawns on Lianne, watching Kally catch her breath. If she had spoke of Carthak in writing with as much passion to the Emperor as she had to them, it would endear her most completely to the Emperor.
“No!” Kally repeats, but her blush covers her face and her gaze is focussed on the needlework in her hands. Lianne giggles, her face morphing with delight.
“Stop it!” Kally snaps.
“Was it any good?” Vania asks eagerly.
“I'm not going to talk with you about it.” She scowls and stabs her needle viciously into her fabric.
“Was it not appropriate?” Vania wonders saucily.
“It was appropriate.” Kally states quickly, warding off her latest investigation. “It was very sweet.”
“Where is it?” Lianne asks, standing.
“You're not seeing it!”
“But what if I have a Carthaki suitor and they wrote me poetry, and I do not know if they have any skill or if it is any good because it is a completely different offering to our style?” Vania wheedles, rising and walking towards the door.
“Then you will judge for yourself.”
“But the Emperor's poetry would be perfect to pose judgement with.”
“Their poetry is not very different at all to ours, and there are several ones in the library on the subtle differences between poetry in the Common and Eastern lands.”
“We will be able to visit, won't we?” Lianne questions suddenly, leaning against Kalasin’s chair.
“Tell me you never thought otherwise.” Kally says softly, and takes Lianne’s hand. She beckons to Vania, and she perches on the edge of the chair.
“I would be most disappointed if I never saw your faces unless though spell again.” They stay quiet for a moment, heads together. “We won’t talk out of this now. It is still the old year, and my new life starts in the new year. Not yet. Not now. Now I am still your oldest sister, and I want to hear all the details of your gowns for tonight.”
“She will take it as a challenge to tell you of every last piece of embroidery.” Lianne says teasingly, and Vania smiles.
“Then, darling, you must tell me of every last stitch.” Kally smiles back, and they lapse into giggles.
x
“This may be the last time we'll all have Midwinter together.” Jasson says, bracing his foot on the full trunk and lacing his boot. Roald’s childhood room is full of trunks and saddlebags, the result of the Progress and moving out of Lord Imrah’s suite now that he was no longer a squire. Liam adjusts his tunic in the mirror, and scowls at Jasson’s reflection.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, first, Roald will be married soon.”
“Not for another year, at the least. Two, even.” Roald said.
“You’ll be spending more time with Princess Shinkokami, though. And then you’ll want an heir.” Jasson smiles wryly as Roald slowly blushes, and shoots him a frustrated glare.
“Neither of those means that I would not be spending Midwinter with you. Neither of those have any effect on us spending Midwinter together! And I, that is, Shinkokami and I, have no need to have an heir right away. When we are ready. When the both of us are ready, we would have an heir. And there is no guarantee that we would have an heir.”
“Yes. When you are ready. Then you’ll have an heir. And as Liam and myself do not volunteer for any part of sitting duty with the baby, we will regrettably see less of you.” Roald rolls his eyes, but does not offer a reply. Jasson smirks.
“Why will this be the last, though?” Liam questions.
“Tensions growing with Scanra too much for it not to be.”
“Scanra?” Liam looks at Jasson quizzically. “Not so soon, surely. They won’t organize themselves that quickly.”
“Jass, we won’t all be sent off to war. One of us needs to stay out of harm’s way, even though Father fought.” Roald says, a bitter tinge to his tone.
“I'm not saying we'll all die.” He looks between his brothers. “But if tension keeps building, more than one of us will be sent off, and if it starts earlier, Kally will leave earlier to make our Carthak ties completely secure and so Emperor Kaddar can help without it being slightly touchy. Chances are Kally will leave early anyway. So this is it. Our last Midwinter.”
“Don’t tease Vania at dinner then, Liam. She’s already annoyed with Father.”
“Just as well your Ordeal went well, then, too.” Liam replies.
“Don’t.” Roald’s voice is sharp. “Not now. It is not a joke.”
“Sorry.” Liam said, looking apologetic. “Does a newly made knight want to show his superior archery skills to his undeserving younger brothers?”
“He does indeed. And then he will show both of them his superior skills in sword and staff. And then knife throwing.”
“Maybe just the archery, Roald. A newly made knight cannot think too highly of himself.” Jasson said, ducking the swing Roald aims at his head, and Roald laughs.
X
“Will you play, Mama?” Vania asks, looking up from her conference with Lianne. Thayet places a plate of biscuits and a bottle of wine on the table. She looks at Jon, who shrugs.
“We’ll watch.”
“Oh, Mama, you made the biscuits.” Kally said happily, snagging the plate from under Jasson’s reaching fingers.
“Buri and I did. She’ll give you the recipe when she sees you next, she forgot it this morning with your presents. You can make them next Midwinter, wherever you might be.”
“Thankyou, Mama. And I’ll thank Aunt Buri when I see her too.”
“Why didn’t she come to dinner?” Lianne asks curiously. Thayet flicks a look at Jon, and he smirks back.
“She’s saving Raoul from his matchmaking aunt.” Jon opens the bottle of wine and pours a glass, handing it to Thayet. He pours a splash into each of the other glasses, and beckons to his children.
“A toast.” He raises his glass, and his family follows suit. “To the good things that have been, the good things that are now, and the good things that will come. We thank the gods for our blessings, and for our families, friends, and those whom we love.”
“So mote it be.” They chorus, and clink their glasses. The children settle themselves in pairs in front of the fire, and Lianne and Vania confer quietly. Vania stands and begins to mime, and Liam and Jasson throw wild guessing into the air. Roald and Kally give more calculated judgements, and Vania begins miming more dramatically as Lianne begins to shake with laughter.
“A good day?” Thayet asks softly, nestling against his side on the lounge. He puts his arm around her, plants a kiss on her head.
“A very good day. One to remember.”
“They’ve grown so big.” She says quietly, wistfully looking down at their antics.
“We’ve just grown old.” He says wryly, and is rewarded by her laughter.
“We’re not that old. I’ve still got plenty of spring in my step.” She raises her head off his chest and gives him a look. “And I guess you’re not too bad either.”
“I’m supposed to take that as a compliment, aren’t I?” He huffs, and pokes her ribs, chuckling as she flinches.
“You will pay for that later, my lord.” Thayet says quietly, and nestles back against him. “But Happy Midwinter, my love.”
“Happy Midwinter, my darling.” He replies, and leans down and kisses her.
“How could you not tell I was a griffin?” Vania cries loudly, and her parents separate. Lianne is shaking with silent laughter, and Roald and Kally exchange bemused glances.
“Father?” Liam asks, seeking a peacemaker.
“Sweetheart, you were flapping your arms. You could have been any flying animal.” Jon says with a grin, and looks down at his wife.
“She was doing a strange twisting thing with her head.” Thayet says.
“That was a complete indication of a griffin.” Jasson says, and Vania joins in on their laughter.
“Father wants to show us how it is done properly.” Kally challenges, a mischievous smile on her face.
“Shall we?” He stands and holds his hand out to Thayet, who takes it, and they settle themselves in front of the fire amongst their children. The night disappears in the midst of laughter and happiness, and they treasure every moment.