Post by devilinthedetails on Dec 1, 2020 23:42:25 GMT 10
Title: Heedless of the Wind and Weather
Rating: PG-13 for mild sexuality
Summary: George sings to welcome the new year in his Lower City slang.
Song: Deck the Halls
Notes: A short but hopefully sweet Alanna/George story. Sweet by devilinthedetails standards anyway
Heedless of the Wind and Weather
It was Thom’s first Midwinter, and he was cradled against Alanna’s chest. Maude had wrapped him snugly in a woolen blue blanket and assured herself with many tutting warnings that Alanna was holding him properly so that he was unlikely to plummet to the flagstone floor, shattering his skull.
Watching large logs blazing in the hearth and staring up at the boughs of holly that adorned the arching rafters of Pirate Swoop’s great hall, Alanna felt as warm inside as if she were swaddled in a baby’s blanket herself. It felt good to be home from fighting for the Crown–returned for all too brief and blessed an interval to her George and Thom.
Her perception that it was a blessing to be home with George was challenged when he chose that moment to sing in his rough Lower City accent, “Fast away the old year passes...”
“It flees so swiftly because it’s running from your singing.” Alanna snorted, nudging her husband with a sharp elbow to the ribs.
Undaunted by the assault on his ribcage, George continued to belt out so that the glass windowpanes rattled with his voice as much as with the heavy wind and rain–it never snowed even at Midwinter this far south, which was strange to Alanna, born and bred in the harsh northern winters by the Grimhold Mountains as she was–“Hail the new year, lads and lasses.”
“Don’t dirty our son’s ears with your Lower City slang.” Alanna scowled at him as she planted her palms over the tiny shells of Thom’s ears, shielding them from the racket George was making before he began to cry, adding his shrill bawling to George’s caterwauling chorus.
“Sing we joyous all together,” George went on singing, his hazel eyes twinkling as if Alanna and Thom were indeed joining him in his merry tune.
“Joyous, ha.” Alanna shook her head at the depths of her husband’s delusion.
“Heedless of the wind and weather.” George finished his song on a high note that threatened to break all the windows in the hall and steal all the air the fire needed to burn away the dark and the damp. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he bent to nip at her earlobe, “You are the cold wind and weather, lass.”
“So I am.” Alanna shifted Thom so that she could tweak her husband’s beak nose. “And you ignore me at your own peril.”
They kissed then over the baby bundled in Alanna’s arms, and as her lips moved over George’s, Alanna understood why her husband had been so determined to hang mistletoe from every rafter in the great hall.
Rating: PG-13 for mild sexuality
Summary: George sings to welcome the new year in his Lower City slang.
Song: Deck the Halls
Notes: A short but hopefully sweet Alanna/George story. Sweet by devilinthedetails standards anyway
Heedless of the Wind and Weather
It was Thom’s first Midwinter, and he was cradled against Alanna’s chest. Maude had wrapped him snugly in a woolen blue blanket and assured herself with many tutting warnings that Alanna was holding him properly so that he was unlikely to plummet to the flagstone floor, shattering his skull.
Watching large logs blazing in the hearth and staring up at the boughs of holly that adorned the arching rafters of Pirate Swoop’s great hall, Alanna felt as warm inside as if she were swaddled in a baby’s blanket herself. It felt good to be home from fighting for the Crown–returned for all too brief and blessed an interval to her George and Thom.
Her perception that it was a blessing to be home with George was challenged when he chose that moment to sing in his rough Lower City accent, “Fast away the old year passes...”
“It flees so swiftly because it’s running from your singing.” Alanna snorted, nudging her husband with a sharp elbow to the ribs.
Undaunted by the assault on his ribcage, George continued to belt out so that the glass windowpanes rattled with his voice as much as with the heavy wind and rain–it never snowed even at Midwinter this far south, which was strange to Alanna, born and bred in the harsh northern winters by the Grimhold Mountains as she was–“Hail the new year, lads and lasses.”
“Don’t dirty our son’s ears with your Lower City slang.” Alanna scowled at him as she planted her palms over the tiny shells of Thom’s ears, shielding them from the racket George was making before he began to cry, adding his shrill bawling to George’s caterwauling chorus.
“Sing we joyous all together,” George went on singing, his hazel eyes twinkling as if Alanna and Thom were indeed joining him in his merry tune.
“Joyous, ha.” Alanna shook her head at the depths of her husband’s delusion.
“Heedless of the wind and weather.” George finished his song on a high note that threatened to break all the windows in the hall and steal all the air the fire needed to burn away the dark and the damp. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper, he bent to nip at her earlobe, “You are the cold wind and weather, lass.”
“So I am.” Alanna shifted Thom so that she could tweak her husband’s beak nose. “And you ignore me at your own peril.”
They kissed then over the baby bundled in Alanna’s arms, and as her lips moved over George’s, Alanna understood why her husband had been so determined to hang mistletoe from every rafter in the great hall.