Post by Kit on Apr 21, 2013 6:20:51 GMT 10
Title: Sparrow spans
Rating: PG
Word Count: 241
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1/B
Summary: Lalasa's sparrows are voyeurs. Fluff.
I know it’s madness to play these odds. It’s like giving matches to paper dolls.
Sometimes, Lalasa felt like she could measure out her years in the lifespans of sparrows. Ever since Kel’s first flock had split and the silly, gallant Peg had seemingly decided that she would rather be warm in Corus than following her flock across mud and and army camps, she had a speckled-feather family of her very own. Their brazen assumption that they would be fed and allowed to explore, and every day, was one more reason to get up in the morning. And the girl had learned to gather those reasons close.
Peg, her first, saw Tian’s golden head and two sets of quick hands plying needles. She saw other palace animals attach themselves to her, and gormless boys prove that they could remain sweet, even as they grew. After Peg, there was Fletch (a wicked joke from her uncle); then Arrow in her honour; then dapper little Umber. Umber--whose indignation at being accidentally shut out of Lalasa’s room, displayed by a peeping feathery rage—had broken the first, rushed-sweet-off-center kiss that Kel had rushed in to give, late at night and giddy with realizations.
Letting her unhappy bird-friend back into her room, lips still swollen with other, slower, more centered kisses, Lalasa hoped that every bird who followed her would see something that sweet.
Then, she kicked herself for whimsy. Smiling all the while.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 241
Pairing: Kel/Lalasa
Round/Fight: 1/B
Summary: Lalasa's sparrows are voyeurs. Fluff.
I know it’s madness to play these odds. It’s like giving matches to paper dolls.
Sometimes, Lalasa felt like she could measure out her years in the lifespans of sparrows. Ever since Kel’s first flock had split and the silly, gallant Peg had seemingly decided that she would rather be warm in Corus than following her flock across mud and and army camps, she had a speckled-feather family of her very own. Their brazen assumption that they would be fed and allowed to explore, and every day, was one more reason to get up in the morning. And the girl had learned to gather those reasons close.
Peg, her first, saw Tian’s golden head and two sets of quick hands plying needles. She saw other palace animals attach themselves to her, and gormless boys prove that they could remain sweet, even as they grew. After Peg, there was Fletch (a wicked joke from her uncle); then Arrow in her honour; then dapper little Umber. Umber--whose indignation at being accidentally shut out of Lalasa’s room, displayed by a peeping feathery rage—had broken the first, rushed-sweet-off-center kiss that Kel had rushed in to give, late at night and giddy with realizations.
Letting her unhappy bird-friend back into her room, lips still swollen with other, slower, more centered kisses, Lalasa hoped that every bird who followed her would see something that sweet.
Then, she kicked herself for whimsy. Smiling all the while.