Post by Tamari on May 17, 2020 4:17:36 GMT 10
Title: Something New
Rating: PG-13
For: mistrali
Prompt: Sandry
Summary: Daja is getting married and her family couldn’t be happier. So what’s the matter with Sandry?
Notes: I'm very rusty but I wanted to write something for you!
When Daja’s long-term girlfriend proposed, there was no question who would make the wedding dresses. Daja asked Sandry in person anyway. Sandry laughed and showed Daja the sketches she’d started as soon as they’d announced the engagement. She’d expected Daja to want to wear breeches, but Daja wanted two gowns instead. No problem.
But three months later, Sandry sat at her sewing table, her lap covered in fabric and fine thread, and she was panicking. “What’s the matter with me?” she groaned aloud.
“Too much talent?” Briar suggested.
She jumped in her seat and turned to glare at him, as he leaned against her workroom doorway. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”
Briar raised an eyebrow at her. “Eavesdropping on your conversation with yourself?” When Sandry just sighed, he took a few steps into the room. “Is everything okay?”
“I suppose,” she said, slowly tidying her workspace.
It was no question she had the magic, she knew, and the technical skills. Was it the pressure? It had to be perfect. Daja would never complain either way, but Sandry would always know if it wasn’t. And the many guests set to attend, from Traders to people Daja met in her travels, might notice too. What if it reflected badly on Daja?
Maybe it wasn’t the pressure of perfection. Maybe Sandry was worried more about Isobella’s gown. Sandry had known Isobella for years, ever since she and Daja had started a flirtation over Daja’s market stall. Still, Sandry wasn’t as confident about Isobella’s tastes as Daja’s. Daja was her sister, her saati — they could speak mind-to-mind. However much Sandry liked Isobella, and however many suppers they had eaten together, it wasn’t the same. Isobella had liked the sketch, but what if she didn’t like the end result?
“Sandry?” Briar said gently.
She had paused in her organization and was now just standing by her table. “Briar, I just —” she cut herself off. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m happy for Daja. I like Isobella. I like designing dresses. I don’t know what the matter is.” Her voice had risen to an anxious pitch.
Briar came and took her hand, and they sat on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. “Tell me anything you’re thinking, Sandry. It’d be plain silly for me to judge you, no matter what it is.”
“All right,” said Sandry, “Uncle’s health has been decent lately, so I don’t think that’s it. I went to visit him again yesterday. He had a positive throng of young, unmarried men there, certainly not coincidentally! All of a certain age, who were all too eager to meet me!”
“And what happened?” Briar asked.
“I — I was polite! Uncle was obviously disappointed, although he tried to hide it. He’s not as pushy as Berenene, but he’s clearly trying to help me meet a romantic partner. He wants to see me married off to some nobleman.” Sandry curled her fingers around the rug fibers.
“And that bothers you?”
“Nooo…” she drew out. “I understand why he wants that.”
“But it’s not what you want.” Briar’s gray-green eyes were serious.
Sandry groaned. “I don’t know. I don’t exactly trust men after what happened in Namorn!. And besides—” But she couldn’t talk to Briar about that.
Sandry twisted her fingers deeper in the carpet. She had liked Shan, before everything. She had felt those butterflies, those twinges of the heart, a small sample of the romance the books gushed about.
But some books she had never showed Tris. After the hero and heroine had their lavish weddings, they were supposed to consummate their undying love. The romance she understood. The rest… well, she understood, in theory. Even beyond the detailed descriptions in the books, she had seen and heard plenty in her life. Briar wasn’t always discreet in his affairs! But it held no interest for her.
Even with men she had liked, when she had felt those butterflies, she wasn’t interested in anything like that. Kissing and holding hands were all very well. But when she tried to imagine herself, marrying one of the perfectly decent men from Emelan, and following the lead of the books she had read…
Daja and Isobella’s gowns would be beautiful. It was the wedding itself that had stirred something up inside of Sandry.
After a long pause, Briar said, “What happened in Namorn was horrific. I don’t think anyone could blame you if you never looked at a man that way again. Or a woman.”
Sandry looked down. “I know… but the truth is, even before I left, I didn’t think I could get married. I don’t want to be alone. I love my family. Maybe I could love a partner someday too, and say vows to them and everything, but…”
There was a silence, but Briar didn’t break it.
“There are other things expected of a wife,” she managed, “and I don’t want to do those things. Not because of Namorn, I just never have. And I don’t think I could find a husband who would be okay with that.” She looked back up at her brother.
Briar half-smiled at her. “Sandry, you’re not alone in feeling that way. I’ve met women and men who felt the same. Maybe it’ll take some time, but I know that you’ll meet someone to marry who will adore you and never expect you to do anything you don’t want. If that’s what you decide. Or you could just not marry, if you’d rather. It’s all up to you.”
He stood up and offered her a handkerchief (one she had made for him, of course) to wipe the few tears that had spilled out during his speech.
“Thank you,” Sandry said, accepting the handkerchief and giving him a tremulous smile in return.
“Do you need any help finishing this section of the gown?” Briar asked, clearly expecting a no.
Sandry walked over to her worktable, picked up her pattern for Isobella’s bodice, and grinned outright at him. “Would you like to model?”
“I think I hear my shakkan calling,” he said dryly, “but if you need help that doesn’t involve standing still and getting poked with pins, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” Sandry said again.
“You’re my sister, Sandry. Anytime.”
Rating: PG-13
For: mistrali
Prompt: Sandry
Summary: Daja is getting married and her family couldn’t be happier. So what’s the matter with Sandry?
Notes: I'm very rusty but I wanted to write something for you!
When Daja’s long-term girlfriend proposed, there was no question who would make the wedding dresses. Daja asked Sandry in person anyway. Sandry laughed and showed Daja the sketches she’d started as soon as they’d announced the engagement. She’d expected Daja to want to wear breeches, but Daja wanted two gowns instead. No problem.
But three months later, Sandry sat at her sewing table, her lap covered in fabric and fine thread, and she was panicking. “What’s the matter with me?” she groaned aloud.
“Too much talent?” Briar suggested.
She jumped in her seat and turned to glare at him, as he leaned against her workroom doorway. “It’s rude to eavesdrop.”
Briar raised an eyebrow at her. “Eavesdropping on your conversation with yourself?” When Sandry just sighed, he took a few steps into the room. “Is everything okay?”
“I suppose,” she said, slowly tidying her workspace.
It was no question she had the magic, she knew, and the technical skills. Was it the pressure? It had to be perfect. Daja would never complain either way, but Sandry would always know if it wasn’t. And the many guests set to attend, from Traders to people Daja met in her travels, might notice too. What if it reflected badly on Daja?
Maybe it wasn’t the pressure of perfection. Maybe Sandry was worried more about Isobella’s gown. Sandry had known Isobella for years, ever since she and Daja had started a flirtation over Daja’s market stall. Still, Sandry wasn’t as confident about Isobella’s tastes as Daja’s. Daja was her sister, her saati — they could speak mind-to-mind. However much Sandry liked Isobella, and however many suppers they had eaten together, it wasn’t the same. Isobella had liked the sketch, but what if she didn’t like the end result?
“Sandry?” Briar said gently.
She had paused in her organization and was now just standing by her table. “Briar, I just —” she cut herself off. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m happy for Daja. I like Isobella. I like designing dresses. I don’t know what the matter is.” Her voice had risen to an anxious pitch.
Briar came and took her hand, and they sat on the plush rug in front of the fireplace. “Tell me anything you’re thinking, Sandry. It’d be plain silly for me to judge you, no matter what it is.”
“All right,” said Sandry, “Uncle’s health has been decent lately, so I don’t think that’s it. I went to visit him again yesterday. He had a positive throng of young, unmarried men there, certainly not coincidentally! All of a certain age, who were all too eager to meet me!”
“And what happened?” Briar asked.
“I — I was polite! Uncle was obviously disappointed, although he tried to hide it. He’s not as pushy as Berenene, but he’s clearly trying to help me meet a romantic partner. He wants to see me married off to some nobleman.” Sandry curled her fingers around the rug fibers.
“And that bothers you?”
“Nooo…” she drew out. “I understand why he wants that.”
“But it’s not what you want.” Briar’s gray-green eyes were serious.
Sandry groaned. “I don’t know. I don’t exactly trust men after what happened in Namorn!. And besides—” But she couldn’t talk to Briar about that.
Sandry twisted her fingers deeper in the carpet. She had liked Shan, before everything. She had felt those butterflies, those twinges of the heart, a small sample of the romance the books gushed about.
But some books she had never showed Tris. After the hero and heroine had their lavish weddings, they were supposed to consummate their undying love. The romance she understood. The rest… well, she understood, in theory. Even beyond the detailed descriptions in the books, she had seen and heard plenty in her life. Briar wasn’t always discreet in his affairs! But it held no interest for her.
Even with men she had liked, when she had felt those butterflies, she wasn’t interested in anything like that. Kissing and holding hands were all very well. But when she tried to imagine herself, marrying one of the perfectly decent men from Emelan, and following the lead of the books she had read…
Daja and Isobella’s gowns would be beautiful. It was the wedding itself that had stirred something up inside of Sandry.
After a long pause, Briar said, “What happened in Namorn was horrific. I don’t think anyone could blame you if you never looked at a man that way again. Or a woman.”
Sandry looked down. “I know… but the truth is, even before I left, I didn’t think I could get married. I don’t want to be alone. I love my family. Maybe I could love a partner someday too, and say vows to them and everything, but…”
There was a silence, but Briar didn’t break it.
“There are other things expected of a wife,” she managed, “and I don’t want to do those things. Not because of Namorn, I just never have. And I don’t think I could find a husband who would be okay with that.” She looked back up at her brother.
Briar half-smiled at her. “Sandry, you’re not alone in feeling that way. I’ve met women and men who felt the same. Maybe it’ll take some time, but I know that you’ll meet someone to marry who will adore you and never expect you to do anything you don’t want. If that’s what you decide. Or you could just not marry, if you’d rather. It’s all up to you.”
He stood up and offered her a handkerchief (one she had made for him, of course) to wipe the few tears that had spilled out during his speech.
“Thank you,” Sandry said, accepting the handkerchief and giving him a tremulous smile in return.
“Do you need any help finishing this section of the gown?” Briar asked, clearly expecting a no.
Sandry walked over to her worktable, picked up her pattern for Isobella’s bodice, and grinned outright at him. “Would you like to model?”
“I think I hear my shakkan calling,” he said dryly, “but if you need help that doesn’t involve standing still and getting poked with pins, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you,” Sandry said again.
“You’re my sister, Sandry. Anytime.”
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!