Post by Seek on Jan 2, 2015 1:51:11 GMT 10
Title: Take A Chance On Me
Rating: PG
For: fluffybun
Prompt: 3) Anything Sandry post-series! (friendship with the Circle, maybe her romantic problems)
Summary: The three times Sandry's romances ended badly and the one time things aligned.
Notes: Hope you enjoy it! Happy Wishing Tree!
-
i.
“I did think it would work out,” Sandry sighed.
Lark patted her hand, gently. “It takes time, Sandry,” she told her former charge. “And sometimes, a good deal of luck.”
“It was going so well,” Sandry said, wistfully. “He knew I was a mage, of course—everyone does, these days—but it seemed it hadn’t really sunk in until that messenger from the harriers rushed in with that cursed net. He left, and said he’d drop by in the following days, but he never came back.” Her mouth twitched in a wry smile. “His hands were trembling.”
“There are plenty other fish in the sea, my dear,” Lark told her. “And this Alten fer Kinlath, if he can’t love you for who you are…”
Sandry sighed. “I know,” she said, smiling. “I’m being terribly silly about this, aren’t I? I just really wished it would’ve worked out.”
“It takes time,” Lark said.
“And I have a lot of that, I know.”
ii.
“I’m sorry, saati,” Daja said, wiping sweat away with a soot-stained handkerchief. Sandry resolved to make her friend some more dirt-repelling handkerchiefs, but soot and the smell of hot coals was just part of who Daja was: a smith-mage.
She did her best to smile. “I know,” Sandry said, aloud. “It happens to all of us.” Daja herself had a relationship with Rizu, she remembered, but that hadn’t ended well when Rizu refused to leave Namorn.
Daja hadn’t spoken about her romantic life since then, although Sandry knew that her saati wrote letters to Polyam of Tenth Caravan Idaram regularly.
Daja said, “Still, he’s an idiot.” Gingerly, she dropped her hammer, reached out, and pulled Sandry into a tight hug. “You deserve better, saati. I’m glad you broke up.”
“I know I do,” Sandry said, matter-of-factly. “It’s just…I wish I didn’t feel like scum for doing it, but I had to choose between him and me, and there wasn’t any way I was choosing him, after what it was doing to me.”
iii.
“Good riddance,” Tris said, frankly. “He was a jerk, Sandry.”
Sandry bit her lip. “Well, he was,” she admitted, “But he had his redeeming points.” And then, she thought about it, and decided that was silly trying to defend Wes. “But yes. He’s a jerk.”
Tris said, carefully, “You aren’t doing this because you have to, are you?”
Sandry was confused, until she understood. “Gods, no,” she said, firmly. “It’s all rumours, nothing more. My uncle would never disinherit his sons, just to put me in their place, instead. It’d cause resentment, among other things.”
Tris opened her mouth, as though to say something, clearly thought the better of it, and said nothing.
“No,” Sandry continued, “It’s just that…” she shrugged. “I wanted what my parents had, you know? Love. Someone to make me feel as though I’m valued.” She added, hastily, “It’s not what we have. You, Briar, Daja—we’re all family. But I was hoping for something else. I just wish that I wasn’t having so much difficulty with this.”
“Well,” Tris said, “It can’t get much worse than Wes.”
Sandry made a face. “No,” she admitted. “I doubt I’ll be making that mistake again, any time soon. He’s worse than Shan and Finn, and that’s saying something.”
iv.
“Well, Duchess,” Briar said, “Truth is, he was a zernamus and we all knew it. And if you’d like me to give him some tips on how to be a proper gentleman, all friendly-like,” he grinned, flashing white teeth, “Consider me ready.”
“I don’t need him beaten up,” Sandry said, rolling her eyes. “And I think being trussed up by his own bedsheets is punishment enough, don’t you think?”
“Bleaters like him, it’s always worth going the extra mile to make their day just a little worse,” Briar said, folding tanned arms across his chest. He had, Sandry thought, not for the first time, a genuinely disarming grin, a roguish way of getting behind someone’s defences and charming them. That, she thought, annoyed, was probably what explained the flood of women he’d been flirting with, ever since he’d come back from Yanjing.
“Don’t bother,” she said, “I’m finished with him.”
“Well, then,” Briar said, “What about going out to get some lunch, Duchess? I know a place that makes proper Gyongxin food, and it isn’t far from here.”
Sandry blinked.
Briar said, his voice gone strangely gentle, “They ain’t the only ones as got eyes, Duchess.”
Sandry said, “I’m not going to be one in that steady flow of visitors you’ve had, Briar.”
He took her hand in his, the vines moving under the skin. Roses, Sandry thought, amused. They were all flowering roses now. “Duchess, don’t you know? I’m a reformed man, now. Give us a try, will you?”
You could do worse, Sandry thought, and in fact, she had. She’d made far worse choices in the past, and for the first time, maybe her heart was leading her in the right direction. She smiled, aware of his presence—both physical, and the constant reassuring sense of green magic in their bond.
“Well, then,” Sandry said, lightly, stepping away, “Why don’t you show me how you treat a lady, then?”
Briar grinned. “My pleasure.”
Rating: PG
For: fluffybun
Prompt: 3) Anything Sandry post-series! (friendship with the Circle, maybe her romantic problems)
Summary: The three times Sandry's romances ended badly and the one time things aligned.
Notes: Hope you enjoy it! Happy Wishing Tree!
-
i.
“I did think it would work out,” Sandry sighed.
Lark patted her hand, gently. “It takes time, Sandry,” she told her former charge. “And sometimes, a good deal of luck.”
“It was going so well,” Sandry said, wistfully. “He knew I was a mage, of course—everyone does, these days—but it seemed it hadn’t really sunk in until that messenger from the harriers rushed in with that cursed net. He left, and said he’d drop by in the following days, but he never came back.” Her mouth twitched in a wry smile. “His hands were trembling.”
“There are plenty other fish in the sea, my dear,” Lark told her. “And this Alten fer Kinlath, if he can’t love you for who you are…”
Sandry sighed. “I know,” she said, smiling. “I’m being terribly silly about this, aren’t I? I just really wished it would’ve worked out.”
“It takes time,” Lark said.
“And I have a lot of that, I know.”
ii.
“I’m sorry, saati,” Daja said, wiping sweat away with a soot-stained handkerchief. Sandry resolved to make her friend some more dirt-repelling handkerchiefs, but soot and the smell of hot coals was just part of who Daja was: a smith-mage.
She did her best to smile. “I know,” Sandry said, aloud. “It happens to all of us.” Daja herself had a relationship with Rizu, she remembered, but that hadn’t ended well when Rizu refused to leave Namorn.
Daja hadn’t spoken about her romantic life since then, although Sandry knew that her saati wrote letters to Polyam of Tenth Caravan Idaram regularly.
Daja said, “Still, he’s an idiot.” Gingerly, she dropped her hammer, reached out, and pulled Sandry into a tight hug. “You deserve better, saati. I’m glad you broke up.”
“I know I do,” Sandry said, matter-of-factly. “It’s just…I wish I didn’t feel like scum for doing it, but I had to choose between him and me, and there wasn’t any way I was choosing him, after what it was doing to me.”
iii.
“Good riddance,” Tris said, frankly. “He was a jerk, Sandry.”
Sandry bit her lip. “Well, he was,” she admitted, “But he had his redeeming points.” And then, she thought about it, and decided that was silly trying to defend Wes. “But yes. He’s a jerk.”
Tris said, carefully, “You aren’t doing this because you have to, are you?”
Sandry was confused, until she understood. “Gods, no,” she said, firmly. “It’s all rumours, nothing more. My uncle would never disinherit his sons, just to put me in their place, instead. It’d cause resentment, among other things.”
Tris opened her mouth, as though to say something, clearly thought the better of it, and said nothing.
“No,” Sandry continued, “It’s just that…” she shrugged. “I wanted what my parents had, you know? Love. Someone to make me feel as though I’m valued.” She added, hastily, “It’s not what we have. You, Briar, Daja—we’re all family. But I was hoping for something else. I just wish that I wasn’t having so much difficulty with this.”
“Well,” Tris said, “It can’t get much worse than Wes.”
Sandry made a face. “No,” she admitted. “I doubt I’ll be making that mistake again, any time soon. He’s worse than Shan and Finn, and that’s saying something.”
iv.
“Well, Duchess,” Briar said, “Truth is, he was a zernamus and we all knew it. And if you’d like me to give him some tips on how to be a proper gentleman, all friendly-like,” he grinned, flashing white teeth, “Consider me ready.”
“I don’t need him beaten up,” Sandry said, rolling her eyes. “And I think being trussed up by his own bedsheets is punishment enough, don’t you think?”
“Bleaters like him, it’s always worth going the extra mile to make their day just a little worse,” Briar said, folding tanned arms across his chest. He had, Sandry thought, not for the first time, a genuinely disarming grin, a roguish way of getting behind someone’s defences and charming them. That, she thought, annoyed, was probably what explained the flood of women he’d been flirting with, ever since he’d come back from Yanjing.
“Don’t bother,” she said, “I’m finished with him.”
“Well, then,” Briar said, “What about going out to get some lunch, Duchess? I know a place that makes proper Gyongxin food, and it isn’t far from here.”
Sandry blinked.
Briar said, his voice gone strangely gentle, “They ain’t the only ones as got eyes, Duchess.”
Sandry said, “I’m not going to be one in that steady flow of visitors you’ve had, Briar.”
He took her hand in his, the vines moving under the skin. Roses, Sandry thought, amused. They were all flowering roses now. “Duchess, don’t you know? I’m a reformed man, now. Give us a try, will you?”
You could do worse, Sandry thought, and in fact, she had. She’d made far worse choices in the past, and for the first time, maybe her heart was leading her in the right direction. She smiled, aware of his presence—both physical, and the constant reassuring sense of green magic in their bond.
“Well, then,” Sandry said, lightly, stepping away, “Why don’t you show me how you treat a lady, then?”
Briar grinned. “My pleasure.”