Post by devilinthedetails on Nov 29, 2018 2:46:12 GMT 10
Title: Reminder of Home
Rating: PG
Prompt: Remembrance
Summary: For Midwinter, Kaddar gives Kalasin a remembrance of Tortall.
Reminder of Home
“I brought you a Midwinter present.” Kaddar’s tone was so smug as he strode into the parlor where Kalasin was sitting, feet curled on a couch, reading a book on healing Zaimid had lent her from his considerable collection, that she couldn’t resist pricking at his bubble.
“December just began. That’s rather early for a Midwinter gift, isn’t it?” Kalasin arched an eyebrow as she marked her page and placed her book on a cypress table beside the sofa.
“Yes, but I want you to be able to enjoy it throughout the Midwinter season.” Kaddar smiled, teeth white as an elephant tusk, as he slipped beside her, nudging her feet off a cushion so he could claim it. “It’s a surprise, but I have a hint for you if you close your eyes.”
“The gift better be good if you’re making me close my eyes,” teased Kalasin, but she shut her eyes obligingly.
“It is,” Kaddar reassured her. “Smell this.”
Kaddar was always asking her to smell something from his gardens–a lotus blossom from the ponds or a piece of acacia bark from the trees that lined the paths–but this aroma, a sharp, wintry one that was as out of place as snow in the Carthaki desert, was different. As the pine scent wafted up her nostrils, Kalasin’s lips lifted with a flood of remembrances involving decorating and giving presents around evergreens with her family in Tortall. Lianne squealing with delight when she unwrapped a doll Kalasin had bought for her in the Corus markets. Jasson and Liam competing to see who could hang an ornament on a higher bough. Mama tying bright bows to branches in the Sarain fasion. Papa stretching on tiptoe to attach a shining glass sun disc to the top of the tree. Roald helping her find sturdy enough to hang the heavier ornaments without snapping like twigs...
“It smells like a pinecone,” she murmured. Reaching out to touch it and feeling the rough grooves, she added, opening her eyes, “It is a pinecone.”
“A fresh pinecone.” Kaddar showed her a stream of sap on his finger. Before Kalasin could ask where he had gotten a fresh pinecone, he tapped her nose with a finger that wasn’t covered in sap. “That’s all the hint you’re getting, my dear.”
Turning to one of his personal slaves who stood waiting by the wall, he ordered, gesturing toward the door, “Have the Empress’s gift brought in now.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” The slave bowed deeply before opening the parlor door.
Kalasin gasped at the cloud of jade green needles and mud brown trunk that filled the threshold. At first glance, it seemed that the spruce had carried itself to the parlor door, but then Kalasin saw the line of slaves supporting it.
The slaves positioned the tree in a corner next to the balcony according to Kaddar’s directions, and the parade of presents didn’t cease with the spruce. A river of slaves flowed into the room, bearing baskets of glittering ornaments wrought in gold, silver, and crystal.
“It’s the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.” Kalasin kissed her husband on the cheek, any desire to mock his arrogance vanishing with the tree’s appearance. “A thousand times thank you, but how did you manage to get one in Carthak?”
Kalasin might not have been as well-versed as he was in the various forms of botanical life that flourished in Carthak, but even she knew that spruces weren’t a native species.
“I asked your family to have one shipped to me.” Kaddar slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her toward his chest. “Then I swore them to secrecy like the devious tyrant I am.”
“Sometimes I love it when you’re devious.” Kalasin melted into him as a snowflake would into warm flesh. “This tree will remind me of home and family.”
“Good. I want you to remember your family and home in Tortall”–Kaddar kissed her hair until he found her neck–“but I also want you to feel that you’re building a home and family with me in Carthak.”
“We’ll build a family together,” agreed Kalasin, soft as feather tickling skin, resting her hands over her stomach as she often did when she and Kaddar spoke of creating a family together.
Rating: PG
Prompt: Remembrance
Summary: For Midwinter, Kaddar gives Kalasin a remembrance of Tortall.
Reminder of Home
“I brought you a Midwinter present.” Kaddar’s tone was so smug as he strode into the parlor where Kalasin was sitting, feet curled on a couch, reading a book on healing Zaimid had lent her from his considerable collection, that she couldn’t resist pricking at his bubble.
“December just began. That’s rather early for a Midwinter gift, isn’t it?” Kalasin arched an eyebrow as she marked her page and placed her book on a cypress table beside the sofa.
“Yes, but I want you to be able to enjoy it throughout the Midwinter season.” Kaddar smiled, teeth white as an elephant tusk, as he slipped beside her, nudging her feet off a cushion so he could claim it. “It’s a surprise, but I have a hint for you if you close your eyes.”
“The gift better be good if you’re making me close my eyes,” teased Kalasin, but she shut her eyes obligingly.
“It is,” Kaddar reassured her. “Smell this.”
Kaddar was always asking her to smell something from his gardens–a lotus blossom from the ponds or a piece of acacia bark from the trees that lined the paths–but this aroma, a sharp, wintry one that was as out of place as snow in the Carthaki desert, was different. As the pine scent wafted up her nostrils, Kalasin’s lips lifted with a flood of remembrances involving decorating and giving presents around evergreens with her family in Tortall. Lianne squealing with delight when she unwrapped a doll Kalasin had bought for her in the Corus markets. Jasson and Liam competing to see who could hang an ornament on a higher bough. Mama tying bright bows to branches in the Sarain fasion. Papa stretching on tiptoe to attach a shining glass sun disc to the top of the tree. Roald helping her find sturdy enough to hang the heavier ornaments without snapping like twigs...
“It smells like a pinecone,” she murmured. Reaching out to touch it and feeling the rough grooves, she added, opening her eyes, “It is a pinecone.”
“A fresh pinecone.” Kaddar showed her a stream of sap on his finger. Before Kalasin could ask where he had gotten a fresh pinecone, he tapped her nose with a finger that wasn’t covered in sap. “That’s all the hint you’re getting, my dear.”
Turning to one of his personal slaves who stood waiting by the wall, he ordered, gesturing toward the door, “Have the Empress’s gift brought in now.”
“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” The slave bowed deeply before opening the parlor door.
Kalasin gasped at the cloud of jade green needles and mud brown trunk that filled the threshold. At first glance, it seemed that the spruce had carried itself to the parlor door, but then Kalasin saw the line of slaves supporting it.
The slaves positioned the tree in a corner next to the balcony according to Kaddar’s directions, and the parade of presents didn’t cease with the spruce. A river of slaves flowed into the room, bearing baskets of glittering ornaments wrought in gold, silver, and crystal.
“It’s the most beautiful gift anyone has ever given me.” Kalasin kissed her husband on the cheek, any desire to mock his arrogance vanishing with the tree’s appearance. “A thousand times thank you, but how did you manage to get one in Carthak?”
Kalasin might not have been as well-versed as he was in the various forms of botanical life that flourished in Carthak, but even she knew that spruces weren’t a native species.
“I asked your family to have one shipped to me.” Kaddar slipped an arm around her waist, tugging her toward his chest. “Then I swore them to secrecy like the devious tyrant I am.”
“Sometimes I love it when you’re devious.” Kalasin melted into him as a snowflake would into warm flesh. “This tree will remind me of home and family.”
“Good. I want you to remember your family and home in Tortall”–Kaddar kissed her hair until he found her neck–“but I also want you to feel that you’re building a home and family with me in Carthak.”
“We’ll build a family together,” agreed Kalasin, soft as feather tickling skin, resting her hands over her stomach as she often did when she and Kaddar spoke of creating a family together.