[Wild Roses]
Title: no
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Arianhrod, Aodh, Takashi
Prompt: 15A "a human voice"
Word Count: 293
Rating: PG
Notes: first war; third in a set.
"The burning's tomorrow," he began the conversation abruptly.
" . . what?" she replied, drying her hands of the remains of turpentine and reaching, trying to call up an image to go with his too-tight voice.
"Madeleine's dead," said her son, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
He knew her well enough to let her keep her silence, as she reached out to snag a chair before she folded up and fell on the tiles.
Takashi appeared in the doorway, tails flared and worried, looking for the source of the constriction of every invisible string in the house. She shook her head at him, unable to control the look on her face, and said, instead, to her son "Tell me her killers are gone, too."
"At least one is," Aodh replied, "but she wouldn't have gone down to one, even after losing Jasmine."
"No, she wouldn't have," she said, flicking her hands at her husband--no spell, but a request, and he disappeared briefly, returning with a glass half-filled with something toffee coloured. Half-knelt to give it to her with a still-clawed hand, as she told the air "I'll be there."
"I'm sorry," her remaining child whispered as the contact cut.
Takashi caught the glass as she fell forward onto his shoulder, free hand coming up to pet at her hair as she cried. She cried harder at the familiarity of the gesture, seeing herself in Takashi's place and her daughter in her own, not a season past.
'Not even a year after Jasmine,' she thought, as his newly-nailed hand gently pushed her braid back off her shoulder and down her back, gathering her closer. And even through the pain, she couldn't really call herself surprised. Which really just made it worse.
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Arianhrod, Aodh, Takashi
Prompt: 15A "a human voice"
Word Count: 293
Rating: PG
Notes: first war; third in a set.
"The burning's tomorrow," he began the conversation abruptly.
" . . what?" she replied, drying her hands of the remains of turpentine and reaching, trying to call up an image to go with his too-tight voice.
"Madeleine's dead," said her son, and the bottom dropped out of her stomach.
He knew her well enough to let her keep her silence, as she reached out to snag a chair before she folded up and fell on the tiles.
Takashi appeared in the doorway, tails flared and worried, looking for the source of the constriction of every invisible string in the house. She shook her head at him, unable to control the look on her face, and said, instead, to her son "Tell me her killers are gone, too."
"At least one is," Aodh replied, "but she wouldn't have gone down to one, even after losing Jasmine."
"No, she wouldn't have," she said, flicking her hands at her husband--no spell, but a request, and he disappeared briefly, returning with a glass half-filled with something toffee coloured. Half-knelt to give it to her with a still-clawed hand, as she told the air "I'll be there."
"I'm sorry," her remaining child whispered as the contact cut.
Takashi caught the glass as she fell forward onto his shoulder, free hand coming up to pet at her hair as she cried. She cried harder at the familiarity of the gesture, seeing herself in Takashi's place and her daughter in her own, not a season past.
'Not even a year after Jasmine,' she thought, as his newly-nailed hand gently pushed her braid back off her shoulder and down her back, gathering her closer. And even through the pain, she couldn't really call herself surprised. Which really just made it worse.