Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 22, 2018 1:09:25 GMT 10
Title: A Reason to be Happy
Rating: PG-13 for references to violence and slavery
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: Beka Cooper, Farmer related
Summary: Even during civil war, Farmer gives Beka a reason to be happy at Midwinter.
Notes: Happy Wishing Tree! I've never written a Beka/Farmer fic before, so I hope that you enjoy this one.
A Reason to be Happy
Beka shifted in bed, trying to warm herself by pressing herself closer to Farmer’s warmth beside her. It was cold on this Midwinter night with the wind rattling against the windows and blustering through the cracks in the wall to create drafts that even thick wool blankets couldn’t muffle entirely.
It wasn’t just the cold that kept her tossing beneath the covers. Every time she shut her eyes she saw herself as part of the crowd that had assembled that morning to bid farewell to another troop of soldiers ordered to fight on King Roger’s behalf during this brutal civil war that had waged longer than Beka could possibly have imagined when it began. When the first soldiers had marched off to crush the rebels–something all of Corus had been so confident would happen within a few months at most–the coves lining the streets had given lusty cheers such as were usually only heard in alehouses and the mots had waved their handkerchiefs at the soldiers in their crisp uniforms.
On this Midwinter morning, the uniforms were no longer crisp but ragged and drenched by the hard knives of rain falling from the sleet gray sky, making the streets–already clogged with festering corpses because war meant food shortages even worse than the ones that had provoked bread riots in Corus in the past when civil war had been unthinkable–swim with scummer. No sugar soft snowflakes coated the Corus cobblestones this winter. Instead Corus was buried in unceasing, gloomy rainfall as if the skies wept for the blood spilt all over Tortall.
“Is the baby keeping you awake?” Farmer whispered, and she wondered if he too had been wondering why they had decided to bring a new life into a country torn apart by violence.
“No.” Beka rested her hands over the pregnant bulge of her belly. “It’s the war keeping me awake.”
“The war will be over before any child we have will be expected to march off to it.” Farmer’s palm patted her hands, and Beka was ashamed of the selfish comfort–the promise that her child at least would be safe–in this assurance.
“I can’t shake the terrible feeling I’m responsible for this terrible war.” Beka found it easier to be honest with him about the guilt that haunted her when darkness black as her heart surrounded them. “Prince Gareth persuaded His Majesty to outlaw slavery as a reward for me because I wouldn’t ask for anything else, and His Highness knew I’d be happy to see the slaves freed. I should have just asked for another reward.”
“And not see the slaves freed?” Farmer was frowning. Beka could hear it in his voice.
“No, and not see the realm ripped apart by war.” Beka spoke more sharply than she had intended, and she wouldn’t have blamed Farmer if he retorted.
Instead he was silent for a long moment in which Beka could hear her hitched breathing and uneven heartbeat. Then he said in barely above a whisper, “All throughout our hunt for Prince Gareth, I feared it might end in civil war the likes of which Tortall hasn’t seen since it became a country in the chaos following the shattering of the Thanic Empire. I believed in my bones that civil war could break out between the king and his mages because of his licensing of magic or between those who supported the king and those who favored his brother since civil wars are so often about legitimacy. I’m glad that if there has to be a civil war at least it’s about something worth fighting and dying. Ending slavery is a noble cause even if this war has been a nightmare for Tortall, and I can hope we’ll emerge from it a stronger country. I couldn’t if this war were about magic or who should sit the throne.”
“All wars are about who should sit the throne, looby, and only you would be cracked enough to find a reason to be happy during a civil war.” Beka managed a laugh for the first time this Midwinter even if it was one as bitter as the wind hammering against the walls.
“Someone has to find a reason to be happy this Midwinter even if it is during a civil war.” Farmer’s answering chuckle thawed some of the ice around Beka’s heart.
“You’re a looby, but you’ve given me a reason to be happy this Midwinter.” Beka pressed a kiss into Farmer’s temple, feeling the gentle beat of his pulse against her lips. “I’ll forgive you for being a looby since it’s Midwinter, and you’ve gotten me into the holiday spirit.”
Rating: PG-13 for references to violence and slavery
For: Kypriotha
Prompt: Beka Cooper, Farmer related
Summary: Even during civil war, Farmer gives Beka a reason to be happy at Midwinter.
Notes: Happy Wishing Tree! I've never written a Beka/Farmer fic before, so I hope that you enjoy this one.
A Reason to be Happy
Beka shifted in bed, trying to warm herself by pressing herself closer to Farmer’s warmth beside her. It was cold on this Midwinter night with the wind rattling against the windows and blustering through the cracks in the wall to create drafts that even thick wool blankets couldn’t muffle entirely.
It wasn’t just the cold that kept her tossing beneath the covers. Every time she shut her eyes she saw herself as part of the crowd that had assembled that morning to bid farewell to another troop of soldiers ordered to fight on King Roger’s behalf during this brutal civil war that had waged longer than Beka could possibly have imagined when it began. When the first soldiers had marched off to crush the rebels–something all of Corus had been so confident would happen within a few months at most–the coves lining the streets had given lusty cheers such as were usually only heard in alehouses and the mots had waved their handkerchiefs at the soldiers in their crisp uniforms.
On this Midwinter morning, the uniforms were no longer crisp but ragged and drenched by the hard knives of rain falling from the sleet gray sky, making the streets–already clogged with festering corpses because war meant food shortages even worse than the ones that had provoked bread riots in Corus in the past when civil war had been unthinkable–swim with scummer. No sugar soft snowflakes coated the Corus cobblestones this winter. Instead Corus was buried in unceasing, gloomy rainfall as if the skies wept for the blood spilt all over Tortall.
“Is the baby keeping you awake?” Farmer whispered, and she wondered if he too had been wondering why they had decided to bring a new life into a country torn apart by violence.
“No.” Beka rested her hands over the pregnant bulge of her belly. “It’s the war keeping me awake.”
“The war will be over before any child we have will be expected to march off to it.” Farmer’s palm patted her hands, and Beka was ashamed of the selfish comfort–the promise that her child at least would be safe–in this assurance.
“I can’t shake the terrible feeling I’m responsible for this terrible war.” Beka found it easier to be honest with him about the guilt that haunted her when darkness black as her heart surrounded them. “Prince Gareth persuaded His Majesty to outlaw slavery as a reward for me because I wouldn’t ask for anything else, and His Highness knew I’d be happy to see the slaves freed. I should have just asked for another reward.”
“And not see the slaves freed?” Farmer was frowning. Beka could hear it in his voice.
“No, and not see the realm ripped apart by war.” Beka spoke more sharply than she had intended, and she wouldn’t have blamed Farmer if he retorted.
Instead he was silent for a long moment in which Beka could hear her hitched breathing and uneven heartbeat. Then he said in barely above a whisper, “All throughout our hunt for Prince Gareth, I feared it might end in civil war the likes of which Tortall hasn’t seen since it became a country in the chaos following the shattering of the Thanic Empire. I believed in my bones that civil war could break out between the king and his mages because of his licensing of magic or between those who supported the king and those who favored his brother since civil wars are so often about legitimacy. I’m glad that if there has to be a civil war at least it’s about something worth fighting and dying. Ending slavery is a noble cause even if this war has been a nightmare for Tortall, and I can hope we’ll emerge from it a stronger country. I couldn’t if this war were about magic or who should sit the throne.”
“All wars are about who should sit the throne, looby, and only you would be cracked enough to find a reason to be happy during a civil war.” Beka managed a laugh for the first time this Midwinter even if it was one as bitter as the wind hammering against the walls.
“Someone has to find a reason to be happy this Midwinter even if it is during a civil war.” Farmer’s answering chuckle thawed some of the ice around Beka’s heart.
“You’re a looby, but you’ve given me a reason to be happy this Midwinter.” Beka pressed a kiss into Farmer’s temple, feeling the gentle beat of his pulse against her lips. “I’ll forgive you for being a looby since it’s Midwinter, and you’ve gotten me into the holiday spirit.”