Post by Ankhiale on Dec 12, 2013 11:29:22 GMT 10
Title: Roses
Rating: G
For: Max
Prompt: #5 - Alanna and motherhood, what you wanted and what you get.
Summary: How do you explain to a five-year-old that you’re not that kind of girl?
Notes and Warnings: I’m not sure this is quite what you were intending, but I hope it works.
*******
Alanna stared down at the gift she'd just unwrapped. Somewhere behind her, George barely stifled a guffaw.
She swiveled in her seat to shoot him a look over her shoulder. He had to have known about this.
A tug on her breeches brought her attention back around. "Do you like it, Ma?" Thom asked.
Alanna took one look at her son's earnest expression and winced inwardly. She could almost see his thought process, as if it danced in glowing letters before her eyes: girls like flowers and fancy mirrors. Ma is a girl. Therefore...
George was making the kind of wheezing noise that meant he was turning purple. Alanna pointedly ignored him.
"Ma?"
Alanna felt trapped. How does one explain to a five-year-old that his Ma's not that kind of girl?
One doesn't, Alanna realized. She glanced at the hand mirror again. "It's, er, very pretty," she said at last.
Thom beamed. Small hands covered her own, tugging until she turned the mirror over. "It's got roses on the back, Ma, see?" he said.
Alanna had seen. She again fought the urge to wince. "I see, Thom."
"And they even look like the ones in your garden!"
Alanna blinked. George stopped laughing.
"And Maude said roses bloom in May, and your birthday is in May, and so it was perfect,” Thom finished with a flourish.
Alanna looked at her son, then glanced out the window. Sure enough, the climbing roses that clung to the walls surrounding the courtyard she'd turned into an outdoor practice court were blooming. She looked down at the mirror again and smiled. Gently, she set it aside.
"Come here, you," she said, snatching up her giggling son.
"Love you, Ma," he said, wrapping his little arms around her neck.
That burst of helpless love under her breastbone would never not startle her. Alanna tightened her grip on her son. "Love you too, Thom. And thank you for the mirror."
Rating: G
For: Max
Prompt: #5 - Alanna and motherhood, what you wanted and what you get.
Summary: How do you explain to a five-year-old that you’re not that kind of girl?
Notes and Warnings: I’m not sure this is quite what you were intending, but I hope it works.
*******
Alanna stared down at the gift she'd just unwrapped. Somewhere behind her, George barely stifled a guffaw.
She swiveled in her seat to shoot him a look over her shoulder. He had to have known about this.
A tug on her breeches brought her attention back around. "Do you like it, Ma?" Thom asked.
Alanna took one look at her son's earnest expression and winced inwardly. She could almost see his thought process, as if it danced in glowing letters before her eyes: girls like flowers and fancy mirrors. Ma is a girl. Therefore...
George was making the kind of wheezing noise that meant he was turning purple. Alanna pointedly ignored him.
"Ma?"
Alanna felt trapped. How does one explain to a five-year-old that his Ma's not that kind of girl?
One doesn't, Alanna realized. She glanced at the hand mirror again. "It's, er, very pretty," she said at last.
Thom beamed. Small hands covered her own, tugging until she turned the mirror over. "It's got roses on the back, Ma, see?" he said.
Alanna had seen. She again fought the urge to wince. "I see, Thom."
"And they even look like the ones in your garden!"
Alanna blinked. George stopped laughing.
"And Maude said roses bloom in May, and your birthday is in May, and so it was perfect,” Thom finished with a flourish.
Alanna looked at her son, then glanced out the window. Sure enough, the climbing roses that clung to the walls surrounding the courtyard she'd turned into an outdoor practice court were blooming. She looked down at the mirror again and smiled. Gently, she set it aside.
"Come here, you," she said, snatching up her giggling son.
"Love you, Ma," he said, wrapping his little arms around her neck.
That burst of helpless love under her breastbone would never not startle her. Alanna tightened her grip on her son. "Love you too, Thom. And thank you for the mirror."