Post by max on Jan 12, 2015 6:45:56 GMT 10
Title: Queen of Hearts
Rating: PG
For: kati
Prompt: Kel/Dom shenanigans
Summary: post LK get togethers
Notes and Warnings: Hope you like it!
‘I’m so sorry Dom,’ Kel says mournfully, for about the thirty-ninth time.
‘No need to apologise, Lady Knight,’ he responds, again, then can’t help the grimace which escapes him when the incident comes back to him – not due to pain, but that more mighty and elusive of its brothers: embarrassment. ‘I’m entirely to blame.’
He has a commander’s eye, or so he is told. With nearly a year past since they went into Scanra and both of them too busy to chat even when they did happen to be posted in the same place – with both of them granted leave to attend Raoul’s wedding, freed from the scrutiny of the majority of their respective commands – his commander’s eye (so-called) had assumed his reunion with Kel would go much more smoothly than it had done.
Of course, as Neal had relished in reminding him after he and Kel had borne him to an empty drawing room to be healed, sneaking up behind a girl trained from the age of six in hand-to-hand combat only to cover her eyes and bray ‘Guess who?’ after she has spent the better part of two years at war had been quite the festive lapse of judgement on his part.
Anyone could have told him she would hurl him over her hip, even if nobody could have predicted that he would happen to be flung beneath a very weighty, unsecured bronze bust of the Old King. Two cracked ribs later, his cousin has sauntered off, leaving Kel at his side, still profusely apologising.
‘I’ll get Neal –’ she begins, mistaking his groan of frustration for one of injury, rising from her seat in a fluid sigh of silk, but he catches her hand.
‘It was nothing, Kel.’
Because. You know. Even if he’s never likely to live today down, at least they’re finally spending some time together.
‘Can we just stay here a while?’
For the first day of the Malorie’s Peak celebrations, she has worn a green gown that pulls touches of gold out of the long slanting sunlight and into her hair and skin and eyes – though the latter are veiled from his sight by the extravagant lace of her eyelashes; downturned as she observes their clasped hands. Her palm in his is as calloused as his own, and he knows what she has carried in them for over half her life.
He wants to tell her that he thinks she’s the most honourable person he’s ever known; look into the luminous complexity of her eyes – the fey shifts between green and brown and grey – and lose himself. Tell her how it had felt when they’d found her, after Blayce and Stenmun: how her face is the last thing he remembers seeing (seventeen at the time; backlit by the surreal clarity of the northern summer light, the heart of grace in the midst of a battle) before he was shot, before the beginning of the war.
And most of all, how every moment in her company feels like a triumph of discovery; worth dropping out of the banquet of a man and captain he loves like another father, if only for a few soft hours, or maybe a lifetime.
Of course, these are all things it’s quite difficult to say, which is why he’s usually too craven to say them (it has taken him five years to hold her hand). But Kel is one of the bravest people he has known and his faith in her isn’t misplaced now.
She sinks down into her chair again, and doesn’t tug her hand back from his own. Smiles one of her genuine, not-masked smiles.
‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’
Rating: PG
For: kati
Prompt: Kel/Dom shenanigans
Summary: post LK get togethers
Notes and Warnings: Hope you like it!
‘I’m so sorry Dom,’ Kel says mournfully, for about the thirty-ninth time.
‘No need to apologise, Lady Knight,’ he responds, again, then can’t help the grimace which escapes him when the incident comes back to him – not due to pain, but that more mighty and elusive of its brothers: embarrassment. ‘I’m entirely to blame.’
He has a commander’s eye, or so he is told. With nearly a year past since they went into Scanra and both of them too busy to chat even when they did happen to be posted in the same place – with both of them granted leave to attend Raoul’s wedding, freed from the scrutiny of the majority of their respective commands – his commander’s eye (so-called) had assumed his reunion with Kel would go much more smoothly than it had done.
Of course, as Neal had relished in reminding him after he and Kel had borne him to an empty drawing room to be healed, sneaking up behind a girl trained from the age of six in hand-to-hand combat only to cover her eyes and bray ‘Guess who?’ after she has spent the better part of two years at war had been quite the festive lapse of judgement on his part.
Anyone could have told him she would hurl him over her hip, even if nobody could have predicted that he would happen to be flung beneath a very weighty, unsecured bronze bust of the Old King. Two cracked ribs later, his cousin has sauntered off, leaving Kel at his side, still profusely apologising.
‘I’ll get Neal –’ she begins, mistaking his groan of frustration for one of injury, rising from her seat in a fluid sigh of silk, but he catches her hand.
‘It was nothing, Kel.’
Because. You know. Even if he’s never likely to live today down, at least they’re finally spending some time together.
‘Can we just stay here a while?’
For the first day of the Malorie’s Peak celebrations, she has worn a green gown that pulls touches of gold out of the long slanting sunlight and into her hair and skin and eyes – though the latter are veiled from his sight by the extravagant lace of her eyelashes; downturned as she observes their clasped hands. Her palm in his is as calloused as his own, and he knows what she has carried in them for over half her life.
He wants to tell her that he thinks she’s the most honourable person he’s ever known; look into the luminous complexity of her eyes – the fey shifts between green and brown and grey – and lose himself. Tell her how it had felt when they’d found her, after Blayce and Stenmun: how her face is the last thing he remembers seeing (seventeen at the time; backlit by the surreal clarity of the northern summer light, the heart of grace in the midst of a battle) before he was shot, before the beginning of the war.
And most of all, how every moment in her company feels like a triumph of discovery; worth dropping out of the banquet of a man and captain he loves like another father, if only for a few soft hours, or maybe a lifetime.
Of course, these are all things it’s quite difficult to say, which is why he’s usually too craven to say them (it has taken him five years to hold her hand). But Kel is one of the bravest people he has known and his faith in her isn’t misplaced now.
She sinks down into her chair again, and doesn’t tug her hand back from his own. Smiles one of her genuine, not-masked smiles.
‘I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!