Writing Prompt #10 - What if. . .?
I'm sure this is no surprise. I thought about doing something different, but this was where she really might have been so it made sense to go for it.
Rated R for mature content.
Note: I love how Ginella included a desc in hers. I so steal that for my own post!
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It is her eyes that usually draw attention first. In an otherwise unnoticeable face, they shine like twin sapphires. Nut-brown hair boasts red highlights that her current hairdo shows off admirably. Pulled loosely atop her head, long tendrils frame her face and fall down to her waist in the back. A stylized mess; it deceptively looks as if she simply pulled it up and stuck in the pair of gold combs that holds it in place. A strong pointed chin, combined with well-rounded cheeks, makes this young woman look almost unfinished, as if whoever designed her got bored half way through and wiped their hands of the mess. Her lips almost naturally curve upwards into some secret smile that reflects in her eyes no matter how serious she might wish to appear. Her height is unassuming, barely meeting the average range and then only so long as she stands up straight. Loose and relaxed in movement she boasts every curve a woman could want and shows them off without any embarrassment.
A deep blue sweater clings to her upper body; the v-neck showing off a hint of generous cleavage. Drawing attention to this is the gold pendant she wears that falls down strategically low. A black belt cinches the sweater and the skirt under it tightly around her waist. The skirt is a blue that matches her sweater and it sweeps loosely down to where the black boots she wears are visible. She has pierced her ears and wears within each a gold hoop of a modest size.
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“I thought you’d be up here. How you make this climb without killing yourself will forever be one of the great mysteries of life.”
“I fall, but I bounce back up again.” Lying on her back, Miniyal didn’t remove her gaze from the sky, obscured by clouds that threatened to make the trip down more treacherous if the rain finally fell. She’d found this spot, the way to this spot, not many months after she first arrived. It /was/ tricky to climb to, especially in a skirt, but she managed. There had not been many places for an apprentice to hide. At least that others were not willing to use as well. The dangerous trek to the roof involved more risk than most were willing to take. And she had nearly fallen several times, but managed to just sprain joints and not break bones.
Jersy huffed and puffed for a bit before he sat down gingerly next to where Miniyal reclined on the old blanket she always hauled up here with her. “You’re the one who’s going to kill himself. And who would have to explain it to your wife? Me.” Shaking her head she gave up trying to catch a glimpse of stars through clouds and turned her head to stare at the man beside her. He always found her when she returned from an assignment which was a subject of much arguing between him and his wife. But she didn’t want to lose her husband so she put up with his behavior. “Rumor has it she’s expecting again.”
A grimace from the older man confirmed the rumor and Miniyal grinned. He liked to pretend how put upon he was. The truth was he loved ever kid he had. His problem was he didn’t like their mother overly much. “So, did you meet anyone exciting on your last assignment?” The question was as much ritual as tradition and in the darkness her body tightened in anticipation seconds before his hand rested on her stomach. “I was at a weyr. I always meet interesting men when I’m at a weyr. You know that, Jersy.”
The answer was always the same, simply tailored to where she had been last. This assignment had been a short one, but it had been at a weyr. She’d already reported on what she’d learned at Telgar. Her eyes closed before he moved, stretching out beside her so his next words were whispered warmly against the side of her neck. “Tell me all about it.” It was the feel as well as the sounds that made her shiver and turn into where he waited for her. An old part of an old game her words spurred them both on until the wind shifted and the scent of rain was more threatening.
She’d felt somewhat guilty in the beginning as he’d been married then as well. But the guilt wasn’t enough to keep her from getting what she wanted. The friendship had been struck up because he’d recognized her as her father’s daughter. Just barely thirteen when she’d apprenticed she had needed the friends and a covert letter from said father had insured he would keep an eye on her. Two years after she’d arrived at the hall she took advantage of his moment of weakness. While he had barely looked at her the next day it didn’t stop her from pursuing him. It had taken less than two weeks to corner him alone once more. The affair was one of those widely known secrets. Neither of them flaunted it, but neither did they deny it. And when his wife was too heavy with child he would escort Miniyal, instead, to occasions.
Now it had been almost a decade and while Jersy remained at the hall where he taught composing to senior apprentices she traveled where she was needed. The need determined by the Masterharper, of course. As they shared the flask he’d brought with him, her one vice not counting her position as his mistress, he caught her up on all the hall’s latest gossip. Visits back were rare when she was away and it had been nearly a turn since she’d seen him or her home.
“Whispers. Always whispers of trouble. They say the Instigators are making waves again from their island.” Grimacing at the thought, Miniyal passed back the flask and curled herself up against Jersy. “They should have never let them live.” She knew he wouldn’t entirely be listening. Neither of them truly wanted to talk her first night home, but it released some of her tension that was always carried around when she was out.
“Do you know where he wants you to go next?” This question never came up right when she was back. As if by not considering it she could remain longer and they would not be parted again so soon. Unfortunately, he must have heard something. Some hint of new trouble that was what she had heard already tonight. She shouldn’t tell him, of course, but that never stopped her. “I’m not sure. Maybe Nabol. You know there’s rumors coming out of that area. But there’s concern over - well, it was my home so I suppose I would be the one to be sent. He said something about sending me to the Caucus as a cover this time. It certainly couldn’t hurt my plans.”
Her plans were simple. Master by the time she was thirty and running the craft before she was in her mid-forties. Jersy never doubted her when she spoke of it. Although it was a little unnerving at times when she would talk about how no one would be allowed to interfere. Well, there was nothing wrong with ambition. Miniyal had certainly changed since she’d arrived at the hall. So shy there were many who didn’t see her making it out the first turn. Now when she acted shy it was all an act. So much of what she did was an act that he doubted at times if she was real with him. Never when she was around, but they spent long times apart.
“It was your home too. There’s no reason you couldn’t come for visits.” Words whispered into his ear as the first few drops of rain began to fall. “Father would love to see you I am sure. And with poor Fellia expecting, well, you would just have to come alone.” The suggestion appealed to him, even more so when she slid into his lap to face him. “We should go back to my room before the rain really starts.” Words she didn’t mean in the least since as she said them that too tight sweater that always drove him to distraction was peeled off and dropped behind her.
By the time they did make it back to her room; easy enough since that was the window used to get up here and was the reason she had chosen that room to begin with after she walked the tables, the both of them were soaked through. She’d laughed as she crawled back down, sweater and skirt bundled up so he had to look up at her nearly naked the whole time he was climbing down. In her room the shutters were pulled closed and more time than necessary was spent removing clothes and drying each other off. There was a letter on her desk that had not been there before, but she ignored it. Her first night home was hers. That was the deal. Even Fellia had come to accept it. Although if she saw her tomorrow the older woman would glare and mutter insults to her friends.
Miniyal had long since learned to let the jealous insults of others disappear without making any impact on her. She spent too much time pretending to be the type of woman who earned those insults. Whatever she had to do in order to get the job done she would. No one quite knew what to make of her at the hall. Quiet and demure when she could be when someone tried to push her around or take advantage of a situation she already had plans for she pushed them back so hard they learned not to do it again. A bitch was what a lot of people called her, but so what? She dressed to show off every curve she worked so hard to maintain and if sometimes her sweater was cut too low or her dress too tight, well, she would just smile and say she was raised at a weyr before apprenticing.
Tomorrow she would wear something more demure. It wouldn’t serve to have people thinking her a bimbo or an airhead. That wasn’t in her plans. As she listened to Jersy drifting off to sleep beside her she curled up against him once more. There was her wardrobe to plan for tomorrow, people to contact for information, that letter on her desk to read, and opportunities to take to get more time alone with the man beside her. All of the planning took up enough time she felt no guilt in taking steps to wake up Jersy once more when she was ready for him. She didn’t sleep at night and took advantage of every minute of the time he might get some rest for her own wants. It’s not as if she left him with any complaints.
When people stirred in the hallway outside she woke him up again. Groaning he batted away her hand and tried to bury his head under the pillow. “None of that now. The little woman will be waiting for you to stumble home.” He snorted from under the pillow and pulled his head out from under it to give her a bleary-eyed stare. “Ain’t ready to stumble yet,” he answered with a sly grin. “In that case you don’t get breakfast.” And by the time he was stumbling out of her room, leaving her lying her in bed looking smug and satisfied, breakfast had been over for at least an hour.
Rated R for mature content.
Note: I love how Ginella included a desc in hers. I so steal that for my own post!
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It is her eyes that usually draw attention first. In an otherwise unnoticeable face, they shine like twin sapphires. Nut-brown hair boasts red highlights that her current hairdo shows off admirably. Pulled loosely atop her head, long tendrils frame her face and fall down to her waist in the back. A stylized mess; it deceptively looks as if she simply pulled it up and stuck in the pair of gold combs that holds it in place. A strong pointed chin, combined with well-rounded cheeks, makes this young woman look almost unfinished, as if whoever designed her got bored half way through and wiped their hands of the mess. Her lips almost naturally curve upwards into some secret smile that reflects in her eyes no matter how serious she might wish to appear. Her height is unassuming, barely meeting the average range and then only so long as she stands up straight. Loose and relaxed in movement she boasts every curve a woman could want and shows them off without any embarrassment.
A deep blue sweater clings to her upper body; the v-neck showing off a hint of generous cleavage. Drawing attention to this is the gold pendant she wears that falls down strategically low. A black belt cinches the sweater and the skirt under it tightly around her waist. The skirt is a blue that matches her sweater and it sweeps loosely down to where the black boots she wears are visible. She has pierced her ears and wears within each a gold hoop of a modest size.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“I thought you’d be up here. How you make this climb without killing yourself will forever be one of the great mysteries of life.”
“I fall, but I bounce back up again.” Lying on her back, Miniyal didn’t remove her gaze from the sky, obscured by clouds that threatened to make the trip down more treacherous if the rain finally fell. She’d found this spot, the way to this spot, not many months after she first arrived. It /was/ tricky to climb to, especially in a skirt, but she managed. There had not been many places for an apprentice to hide. At least that others were not willing to use as well. The dangerous trek to the roof involved more risk than most were willing to take. And she had nearly fallen several times, but managed to just sprain joints and not break bones.
Jersy huffed and puffed for a bit before he sat down gingerly next to where Miniyal reclined on the old blanket she always hauled up here with her. “You’re the one who’s going to kill himself. And who would have to explain it to your wife? Me.” Shaking her head she gave up trying to catch a glimpse of stars through clouds and turned her head to stare at the man beside her. He always found her when she returned from an assignment which was a subject of much arguing between him and his wife. But she didn’t want to lose her husband so she put up with his behavior. “Rumor has it she’s expecting again.”
A grimace from the older man confirmed the rumor and Miniyal grinned. He liked to pretend how put upon he was. The truth was he loved ever kid he had. His problem was he didn’t like their mother overly much. “So, did you meet anyone exciting on your last assignment?” The question was as much ritual as tradition and in the darkness her body tightened in anticipation seconds before his hand rested on her stomach. “I was at a weyr. I always meet interesting men when I’m at a weyr. You know that, Jersy.”
The answer was always the same, simply tailored to where she had been last. This assignment had been a short one, but it had been at a weyr. She’d already reported on what she’d learned at Telgar. Her eyes closed before he moved, stretching out beside her so his next words were whispered warmly against the side of her neck. “Tell me all about it.” It was the feel as well as the sounds that made her shiver and turn into where he waited for her. An old part of an old game her words spurred them both on until the wind shifted and the scent of rain was more threatening.
She’d felt somewhat guilty in the beginning as he’d been married then as well. But the guilt wasn’t enough to keep her from getting what she wanted. The friendship had been struck up because he’d recognized her as her father’s daughter. Just barely thirteen when she’d apprenticed she had needed the friends and a covert letter from said father had insured he would keep an eye on her. Two years after she’d arrived at the hall she took advantage of his moment of weakness. While he had barely looked at her the next day it didn’t stop her from pursuing him. It had taken less than two weeks to corner him alone once more. The affair was one of those widely known secrets. Neither of them flaunted it, but neither did they deny it. And when his wife was too heavy with child he would escort Miniyal, instead, to occasions.
Now it had been almost a decade and while Jersy remained at the hall where he taught composing to senior apprentices she traveled where she was needed. The need determined by the Masterharper, of course. As they shared the flask he’d brought with him, her one vice not counting her position as his mistress, he caught her up on all the hall’s latest gossip. Visits back were rare when she was away and it had been nearly a turn since she’d seen him or her home.
“Whispers. Always whispers of trouble. They say the Instigators are making waves again from their island.” Grimacing at the thought, Miniyal passed back the flask and curled herself up against Jersy. “They should have never let them live.” She knew he wouldn’t entirely be listening. Neither of them truly wanted to talk her first night home, but it released some of her tension that was always carried around when she was out.
“Do you know where he wants you to go next?” This question never came up right when she was back. As if by not considering it she could remain longer and they would not be parted again so soon. Unfortunately, he must have heard something. Some hint of new trouble that was what she had heard already tonight. She shouldn’t tell him, of course, but that never stopped her. “I’m not sure. Maybe Nabol. You know there’s rumors coming out of that area. But there’s concern over - well, it was my home so I suppose I would be the one to be sent. He said something about sending me to the Caucus as a cover this time. It certainly couldn’t hurt my plans.”
Her plans were simple. Master by the time she was thirty and running the craft before she was in her mid-forties. Jersy never doubted her when she spoke of it. Although it was a little unnerving at times when she would talk about how no one would be allowed to interfere. Well, there was nothing wrong with ambition. Miniyal had certainly changed since she’d arrived at the hall. So shy there were many who didn’t see her making it out the first turn. Now when she acted shy it was all an act. So much of what she did was an act that he doubted at times if she was real with him. Never when she was around, but they spent long times apart.
“It was your home too. There’s no reason you couldn’t come for visits.” Words whispered into his ear as the first few drops of rain began to fall. “Father would love to see you I am sure. And with poor Fellia expecting, well, you would just have to come alone.” The suggestion appealed to him, even more so when she slid into his lap to face him. “We should go back to my room before the rain really starts.” Words she didn’t mean in the least since as she said them that too tight sweater that always drove him to distraction was peeled off and dropped behind her.
By the time they did make it back to her room; easy enough since that was the window used to get up here and was the reason she had chosen that room to begin with after she walked the tables, the both of them were soaked through. She’d laughed as she crawled back down, sweater and skirt bundled up so he had to look up at her nearly naked the whole time he was climbing down. In her room the shutters were pulled closed and more time than necessary was spent removing clothes and drying each other off. There was a letter on her desk that had not been there before, but she ignored it. Her first night home was hers. That was the deal. Even Fellia had come to accept it. Although if she saw her tomorrow the older woman would glare and mutter insults to her friends.
Miniyal had long since learned to let the jealous insults of others disappear without making any impact on her. She spent too much time pretending to be the type of woman who earned those insults. Whatever she had to do in order to get the job done she would. No one quite knew what to make of her at the hall. Quiet and demure when she could be when someone tried to push her around or take advantage of a situation she already had plans for she pushed them back so hard they learned not to do it again. A bitch was what a lot of people called her, but so what? She dressed to show off every curve she worked so hard to maintain and if sometimes her sweater was cut too low or her dress too tight, well, she would just smile and say she was raised at a weyr before apprenticing.
Tomorrow she would wear something more demure. It wouldn’t serve to have people thinking her a bimbo or an airhead. That wasn’t in her plans. As she listened to Jersy drifting off to sleep beside her she curled up against him once more. There was her wardrobe to plan for tomorrow, people to contact for information, that letter on her desk to read, and opportunities to take to get more time alone with the man beside her. All of the planning took up enough time she felt no guilt in taking steps to wake up Jersy once more when she was ready for him. She didn’t sleep at night and took advantage of every minute of the time he might get some rest for her own wants. It’s not as if she left him with any complaints.
When people stirred in the hallway outside she woke him up again. Groaning he batted away her hand and tried to bury his head under the pillow. “None of that now. The little woman will be waiting for you to stumble home.” He snorted from under the pillow and pulled his head out from under it to give her a bleary-eyed stare. “Ain’t ready to stumble yet,” he answered with a sly grin. “In that case you don’t get breakfast.” And by the time he was stumbling out of her room, leaving her lying her in bed looking smug and satisfied, breakfast had been over for at least an hour.