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Post by mistrali on Aug 23, 2013 23:40:05 GMT 10
Title: Calm Before the Storm Rating: PG-13 Category: Emelan > 1000 Length: 3598 words Summary: Briar and Tris 5-sentence ficlets, mostly platonic but with a little bit of romance. Written for Table Four of 5sentence_fics over at LJ. Original and Subsequent Haunts: AO3 and FFNNotes: Warnings for Circlecest in a couple of chapters. Some of this may be jossed when BM's released. --------- Chapter 1: Decent Prompts: 'too good to be true' and 'high octane'. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Decent
"If them Bags're stupid enough to keep their loot in their houses, with no one watchin' it, they're just beggin' to be robbed," said the boy, as if Tris were an idiot. "Those 'Bags' you're stealing from are respectable, decent families," snapped Tris, crimson-faced. Briar spat on the ground. "Like your folks, merchant girl, who left you here 'cause they were scared of your magic? Them as have fine feathers and their nebs in the air ain't always so pretty when you get up close." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Decent (II) - Warning for implied torture
"You – you common thief – insulting my family!" shouted the redhead. Briar eyed her fingers, which played with a growing ball of lightning: he'd been shocked by the Thief Lord before, when he'd come back empty-handed from a raid, and he didn't care to repeat the experience. "I don't blame 'em for leaving you; I'd be scared witless, if I was near you in a temper. That stuff could kill someone one day," he said coldly. Her hands dropped abruptly into her lap, and Briar was glad to see shame in her grey eyes.
Chapter 2: Broken Wing Prompt: 'broken wing' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Rosethorn – please, come and help!" called Tris. "What's wrong with that bird now?" growled Briar, sticking his head out of Rosethorn's workroom; his small supply of patience (for anything that wasn't a plant, that is) was fast dwindling due to the starling's ruckus, and he didn't notice the edge of panic in Tris' voice. "What's the matter, Tris?" asked Lark, who had noticed and come hurrying to the redhead's side. "Rosethorn's in the Earth temple getting new pots for her acacias." "Shriek's wing is broken, maybe," she said, and bit her lip to keep from crying.
Chapter 3: Keep Me Where the Light Is
Title from John Mayer's "Gravity". Prompt: 'crusade'. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Splendid - all that light just knocked me out of my wind-scrying," grumbled Tris, blinking to clear her streaming eyes. "If I find the idiot who coated Labrykas Fountain with layers of spells…" "That 'idiot' would be the chief priest," said Jumshida's deep voice beside her. "And the Fountain's always been spelled, to keep out -" "Don't tell me - death, dirt and the prathmuni," said Tris tiredly, wondering how the woman might react if she learnt Tris's foster-brother had once been a street rat.
Chapter 4: A Night to Remember Prompt: 'running on empty' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- What did we do last night? mumbled Tris, opening an eye and staring at the smoking wreckage of the barn. I don't think cotton and iron are supposed to fuse like that, and there's wool growing out of the roof.
You don't want to know, merchant girl, came Daja's voice, sounding as exhausted as Tris felt. Most of that was you three, Coppercurls; those stone vines in the horse trough are mine, said Briar. Tris would have glared at him for sounding so proud of himself, but her head had begun to throb in earnest.
Chapter 5: PrudentPrompt: 'sentimental journey' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'll be speaking to Niko about this: you four were warned about taking spirits," said Lark, but there was a suspicious twitch to her mouth. "Niko'll probably laugh at us, and then lecture – Mila knows Frostpine rubbed it in enough," grumbled Briar. "No lip from you, my buck; aside from the distilling you'll be doing all week to make up for this, you're not too old to be hung in the well!" snapped Rosethorn, her lips pursed. Ah, now she's mad; she hasn't threatened that in two whole years, and time was she'd say it twice a week, said Briar, with an exaggerated, pretend-wistful sigh, at which Daja chuckled and Sandry bristled. I wonder if she really will hang you in the well this time, said Tris wickedly; Briar considered, and decided that keeping his mouth shut might be wisest. [/i] |
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Post by mistrali on Aug 23, 2013 23:50:49 GMT 10
Chapter 6: Flash
Prompt: 'gold and silver'
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"You won't be wearing jewelry, Viymese? I can ask her ladyship if you wish to borrow a gold-"
"That won't be necessary," said Tris curtly. "I'll go as I am, thank you," she added more gently, at the maidservant's injured look. She told herself that if nobles such as Caidy wished to go prancing like peacocks on Briar's arm, then they could; she had quite enough "flash", as Briar put it, about her already, and she did not wish to attract any more stares from nervous courtiers.
Chapter 7: Sticks and Stones
"Who knew folk needed so many words?" he muttered, scowling and rubbing out the slate rather too aggressively after his third failed attempt at spelling 'fenugreek'.
"Those words do mean things, you know," drawled Tris. "They control trade all over the world; people have to sign contracts to say their boats are working properly and it's safe to put out ship, that their goods aren't faulty, that they'll pay what they ought to…" She smiled crookedly. "Words can hurt, too."
Chapter 8: No Worries
Prompt: 'no worries'
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No Worries
"Lucky pup," said Briar, ruffling Little Bear's ears. "All he got to do's eat an' sleep; no chores, no lessons, food whenever he likes, no girls talkin' him half to death…"
"What, you prefer Crane's greenhouse?" asked Sandry teasingly.
"I could talk to Niko and arrange to send you there; you'll have all the tomatoes you can eat," added Tris, straight-faced.
"Bear, you're on my side, ain't you?" he asked plaintively.
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No Worries (II)
"Yes, please!" he said eagerly; Gorse grinned and piled enough honey cakes onto the cloth to feed the whole cottage for a week.
"Do you ever stop eating?" asked Tris, half amused and half disgusted at the sight of Briar cramming them into his mouth as fast as possible.
"Hey, I w's hun'ry in Thotat," he mumbled, around a mouthful of food. "Never knew if I'd starve," he added, swallowing. Tris was careful not to let the sudden pity for him show in her expression.
Chapter 9: Consolation
Prompt: 'slow hand'. Mention of past B/T.
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"I see you've stopped gawping at that red-haired weather mage long enough to pay some attention to me!" snapped Caidy.
"You're as beautiful as a sunset, and your lips are lovelier than a rose in bloom," he said, as he kissed her soundly. And 'that weather mage' is my foster-sister, who we'll put out of our minds for now – how does that sound?"
His hungry hands moved over her body, slowing as they reached her chest. He really didn't want to think about his (silly boyhood, so he told himself) romance with Tris right now, not with Caidy's warm arms around him.
Chapter 10: Chatter
Prompt: 'sundown'
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Tris's eyes were fixed on the trees near the Air temple, where scores of crows settled noisily into their nests. "Only you'd notice the birds and ignore the sunset," said the boy ruefully.
"But they're fascinating – I've been reading a book Niko gave me about the different types of bird calls... alarm calls, mating calls, flight calls..." she said dreamily. Briar winced; at least plants didn't feel the need to announce everything they did.
"No wonder you like 'em; you yatter more 'n Crane and Niko put together," he teased, grinning as she elbowed him in the ribs.
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Post by mistrali on Aug 23, 2013 23:56:13 GMT 10
Chapter 11: Bear Necessities
Prompt: 'goodbye'
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Briar said earnestly, "Folk in Chammur don't like dogs, or leastways they didn't in Hajra; 'sides, Rosethorn'll be meeting with the healers, who won't let us look at sick folk or handle medicines if we've Bear along."
"Stitching and helping out at the Citadel will keep me busy, and I'll have Uncle and Discipline to comfort me," added Sandry, trying to smile. Tris hesitated and looked at Daja, biting her lip; the other girl waved a hand, saying softly, "You know how Frostpine likes to travel light – besides, Namorn's much too cold."
He'll distract you and Niko from all them southern libraries, and he'll pester you almost as good as me, added the boy, grinning.
No, he has better manners, and he needs less minding… and I can tell what you're all up to, she said sharply, pursing her lips to hide a grin.
Chapter 12: What Dreams May Come
Prompt: 'in chaos'
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"Trisana, why haven't you cleaned the floorboards?"
Cousin Uraelle loomed above Tris, leering, with a mop and bucket… which became a swirling mass of water that Tris drew up steadily from her magic, a bloody sea with pirates' heads bobbing on the waves…
"No, don't touch him!" she cried, thrusting her magic forward to protect Aymery; it struck his falling body uselessly as he, too, sank into the muck, golden earring and all.
She woke with a gasp to her friends' voices. Sandry twined around her, almost smothering, and Daja braced her with the strength of blazing forges; but it was Briar's feeling of cool scent-laden gardens and the great calm of his shakkan, like and yet unlike the ocean's vastness, which finally lulled her to sleep.
Chapter 13: Fool's Paradise
Notes: Pilinu hawal is of course my own invention, since Tammy never mentions if Traders believe in heaven.
The bits about the emperor are from the extended blurb for Battle Magic on Amazon.
Prompt: 'paradise'.
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At first Rosethorn and me thought it was like what Daja calls pilinu hawal, the afterlife for Traders that repay all their debts, he said miserably. He treated all his guests like kings, afore it turned ugly… we'd no idea he was living off borrowed money and letting common folk starve.
"The Tharian upper classes were the same: they didn't care how they treated the prathmuni, as long as they could ignore the filth they lived in," agreed Tris, petting Chime. "But Tharios is changing, slowly... and anyway, look at Duke Vedris - a good ruler can do as much for a kingdom as a tyrant can damage it." Briar just shook his head, unwilling to put any more faith in such a fickle thing as government.
Chapter 14: Seaweed
Prompt: tangled and dark
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"There are tiny plants on the bottom of the seabed – did you know, Briar?" Tris said wonderingly. "So small that they have to use special vision spells to see them, Niko said."
"You're pulling my neb, plants can't grow in salt… and whoever heard of a plant you can't see?" asked Briar, disgusted that she thought he would fall for a bleater's trick.
"Yes, they can – haven't you ever seen seaweed?" asked Daja incredulously; when he made a face at her and shook his head, she snorted, "Oh, I forgot, landsmen…" and began to describe the different varieties and their uses.
Briar toyed with a piece of straw, pretending to be bored, but all three girls giggled when his eyes lit up at Daja's accounts of how some Blue Traders cooked and ate the stuff.
Chapter 15: Teamwork
Prompt: 'blown away' - taking the figurative interpretation.
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You're good at picking locks, 'specially for a skirt, he said admiringly, as they collapsed, panting, in the nearest alley. You didn't squeak once, and you're as quiet as some of my mates back home; you're wasted, not being a thief.
It helped that I was too frightened to make a sound… but thanks ever so for the compliment, she said drily. It's nice to know that when our teachers find out about this and throw us out of Discipline, I'll have some way to make a living.
Aw, c'mon, you got to admit we'd make good gangmates – you could bargain with the boss for better loot, and I could help with medicines, he said, sounding a little too enthusiastic about the idea for someone who had spent the last fourteen months learning how to be civilised.
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Post by mistrali on Aug 24, 2013 0:08:38 GMT 10
Chapter 16: Chasing the Wind
Prompt: 'chasing the wind'.
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I scried a garden on the wind, a rampant one trailing roses and ivy, soaked with your magic.
Oh, I made that in Chammur; it was to stop a Bag gang boss and her pet street rats trying to nab Evvy. How'd you learn that, anyway, that seeing on the wind? It's all right if you don't want to say, he added, at her hesitation.
Tris shook her head; she didn't mind sharing the stories of her travels with him, even though she didn't feel like dealing with Sandry's well-meant platitudes or Daja's stubborn silences.
Chapter 17: Sanctuary
Prompt: 'double vision'.
Spoilers for WotE.
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Briar's eyes blurred with sweat and exhaustion; he doubled over, panting, and couldn't stretch his legs any longer – and there was the straw roof of Discipline, swimming and shimmering and duplicating itself before his eyes.
We're safe now, they can't get us here, said Briar through their mental connection, grabbing her wrist; he took deep breaths of familiar lavender-scented air and steadied himself against an eave; there was a flash of something bright, and he turned, half-expecting to see Tris sprawled on her stomach, playing with lightning – but it was only the sun glancing off Rosethorn's silver dagger, dangling from the belt around her waist.
Briar, what in Mila's name is this?
I made it, in my magic, back when we was in those cells... and maybe Tris or Niko or Crane would know what it is, but I ain't no scholar, he said wearily, wiping his streaming eyes.
"Green Man take me, I've never seen anything like this; I can touch and feel and smell everything," said Rosethorn, her voice ragged.
Chapter 18: Things Ain't Cooking
Prompt: 'personal space'. Title from Crowded House's "Weather With You".
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"You won't set fire to the cheese again, will you, or eat all the figs before they reach the spiced bread?" asked Tris, poking her head into the kitchen.
"My cooking's improved since then - what, d'you think Evvy and me lived on air and eating-house grub the whole time I looked after her in Chammur?" he asked, aware that his jaunty pose didn't quite match the shadow in his eyes; nor did Tris's cool, appraising glance escape him.
"Evvy's tearful all the time, and Rosethorn isn't coping much better than you; she isn't even comfortable around Lark, have you noticed?" said Tris quietly. He opened his mouth and then closed it - he could pretend till the end of time that Yanjing hadn't affected him, but it was clear as day in Rosethorn and Evvy's faces, and that meant something was wrong with him.
Keep your festering pavao mind-healers and get out of my head, all three of you, hear? he growled, turning on his heel and ignoring the grey eyes that followed him.
Chapter 19: Play-Pretty
Prompt: 'rising tide'. Warning for Circlecest (Briar/Sandry).
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"If you think to take Sandry into your bed and enjoy her for a few days, then send her off heartbroken like one of your court-bred songbirds, you'd best watch out, Briar Moss; she's forged of stronger steel than that," said Daja quietly, her voice all iron. "Breaking a promise is worse than never having made one - especially to someone who's been hurt before," added Tris, her grey eyes devoid of any sympathy.
"Sandry ain't one of my play-pretties," he said, furious; what sort of feckless, traitorous bleater did they take him for? "In case you two hadn't noticed, I was in Namorn, and I'd as soon knife that Fin and Shan as look at them; any belbun who hurts any of you'd druther he was still supping on mother's milk."
You'll take care of her, and respect her? asked Tris fiercely, but with something vulnerable, almost childlike, in her voice; the tide of Briar's anger ebbed at that, and he nodded, reaching out a hand to each of his sisters.
Chapter 20: Second Chances
prompt: 'in the dark'
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The dim, stinking cell had been Briar's home for two weeks now; but for the lack of space, it felt like being back on the streets, and he wasn't sure that Briar Moss, green mage and teacher, could stand it as well as Roach the thief. He fought to call that old self back to him, but he was still repulsed at mixing the volatile sulfur-and-nitrogen powder called boom-dust. He'd be sending people to their deaths with this - not Rosethorn or Evvy, who languished in the women's jail, but other civilians, folk whose only crime was getting in the way of Emperor Weishu's bloody, costly war.
Did Tris feel like this after killing all those pirates? he wondered; he remembered something she and Rosethorn had said once about healing balancing out destruction, and managed a tiny smile: he was a small way through. There was hope yet, even if he couldn't see it: didn't some plants strive for light they couldn't feel, after all, and wasn't there a patch of lichen growing close by his elbow even in this near-night?
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Post by mistrali on Aug 24, 2013 0:15:03 GMT 10
Chapter 21: Meetings
Notes: Set during or post-WotE, haven't decided yet. Prompt: 'stormy weather'. So many people in fandom are curious about Keth that it's got me wondering, too. In my headcanon he ended up staying in Tharios, but perhaps he's back in Namorn for a visit.
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The vendors on Dancruan's Glaziers' Street hurried to pack away their wares, for the darkening skies meant a summer storm, perhaps with hail, and Sythuthan did not spare those foolish enough to linger for his merrymaking.
Kethlun Warder had already wrapped his most expensive goods, those used by investigator mages for tracking and concealment, in their bespelled leather cases; when he turned his attention to the more common vases and trinkets, he found himself blocked by a broadly smiling dark-haired man.
"Excuse me, but I'm afraid I'm closed for the day - as you can see, there's a storm brewing - but if there's something you'd like to order, I can write it down for tomorrow," he said cautiously, trying to place the fellow. He looked well-to-do, almost noble from the cut and quality of his clothes, but his way of leaning against the counter, all easy confidentiality, made Keth think buying glass was the last thing on his mind.
"I'm Briar Moss, green mage; perhaps you've heard of me from Tris - Trisana Chandler?" asked the man pleasantly, offering a hand; after a brief hesitation, Keth shook it and grinned, saying, "Yes, she said you were her foster-brother; you've no idea what tales she used to tell about you and her sisters."
Chapter 22: Best Served Cold
Prompt: 'best served cold'
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"The seedcakes are glazed and roasted; now they need to cool before we serve them, or they'll melt," Tris explained, as she washed her hands and her foster-siblings licked their honey-sticky fingers.
"And Briar, don't you dare 'just sample one': they're for Longnight," she added forbiddingly.
"No worries, Coppercurls," he replied, in a cheerful tone that he knew perfectly well didn't fool her. He grinned. He had no intention of stealing a bite, but it was fun to stir her up.
Chapter 23: Distilled Happiness
prompt: 'perfect balance'. The longest five sentences you'll ever see.
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Tris had started at age six and a half, as soon as she reached the right height to mix ingredients for Master Egbert, the Chandlers' cook, who always slipped her the best figs or an extra slice of cured ham. Her parents frowned on her behaviour, saying cooking did not become educated people - but by the time she was eight they had also begun to be afraid of her, so that Tris sought refuge in the kitchen from things she did not understand, like her parents' fury at errant lightning striking the storerooms and talk of a curse on the house, although at this stage she still regarded Darra and Valden with a perplexed, hurt, resentful kind of love. The kitchen was her fortress, a world of knowledge and measuring spoons and scales and laughter where she could not be upbraided or mistrusted, a balance against the mire of family. Unpredictable things happened, yes, but they were sometimes beautiful, and easily put right by a soothing lesson or two from Egbert; it was organised mess, where several steps combined to create a delicious, satisfying whole.
So Gorse's kitchens were a natural haunt for her, because they were filled with noise and motion and (unlike storms, which built up power, spent it and were extinguished) creation out of chaos; for Briar, who dragged her there as often as he could, new scents meant covert culinary delights, unexplored nooks of taste and texture, but for Tris, kitchens were familiar.
Chapter 24: News From Emelan
Prompt: 'wax paper'. I've always wanted to write a 'Tris at Lightsbridge' fic.
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Tris caught her breath; the last package was a larger-than-usual parcel addressed to "Treiada Draper", courtesy of Cheeseman Street, Summersea, wrapped tightly with wax paper and twine. It turned out to be - and gods knew how Briar had managed it - a box of lavender and white peonies, Tris's favourite flowers, fresh as the day they were picked.
"You never told me you had relatives in Summersea, Treia - or are these from a young man who's been courting you?" asked Eika, with a conspiratorial wink, nudge and smile. Tris resisted the urge to roll her eyes - her friend, though well-intentioned, was an incurable romantic - and said quietly, "No, they're from my siblings."
When she managed to find a spare moment and a quiet corner in the library where no one would disturb her, or notice if she shed a few tears, Tris devoured the letters, savouring the news of Sandry's upcoming coronation and her family's feverish preparations; to no-one else's surprise, the Duchess-to-be had already scandalised the conservative nobles of Summersea by dismissing her Mistress of the Wardrobe and sewing her own elaborate gown for the occasion, and equally elegant outfits for her great-uncle and foster-family.
Chapter 25: A Few of My Favourite Things
Prompt: 'blue skies'
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"Aren't they pretty, Little Bear?" whispered Glaki, running her fingers over the delicate sky-blue flowers in a curved vase near the window; they felt soft under her fingers, like Mama's best yaskedasu robes, and the vase made her think of Uncle Keth.
"Those are cornflowers; Tris loves them," came Lark's musical voice, in fluent Tharian.
"I like them, too, and I like the glass; did she make them?" asked Glaki shyly, still not used to having an adult around who wasn't Tris or Keth.
Lark's eyes twinkled. "No, her brother Briar grew these, and Tris bought the vase for him as a present - but she's learnt to blow glass now, from a certain student of hers, I believe," she added, with a wink at Glaki.
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Post by wordy on Aug 27, 2013 11:43:19 GMT 10
The characterisation in this is amazing! And I love how each fic builds up to an overall story of their relationship. Very well done!
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Post by mistrali on Aug 27, 2013 13:58:41 GMT 10
The characterisation in this is amazing! And I love how each fic builds up to an overall story of their relationship. Very well done! Thank you! |
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Muse
Knight
Official Rogerfic Curator
Junior Overlord
Posts: 2,160
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Post by Muse on Sept 13, 2013 12:12:51 GMT 10
Mistrali, I agree with Em--you've gotten a hold on Briar and Tris' voices, and they develop wonderfully together, over and through years that we know of, and events we've only glimpsed through q-canon. Stylistically, your writing flows well powered by the strong character-voices you write--it makes me want to see more of your writing, in longer narratives  |
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Post by mistrali on Sept 14, 2013 6:37:22 GMT 10
Thanks, Muse! I plan to write longer stuff, heh.
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Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!