(no subject)
I wrote a story! A whole short story! Do you know how long it's been since I did that? Like, years. I am very happy about this.
The following story will not make very much sense to the average person, because it is set after Buzzy's and my roleplay. However, Emma and Victor don't care, so. Here it is.
Blood and Arrows, by Rachel
Annie was flinching inwardly even as she showed the Fae out the door. Micah was not going to be happy about what had happened this evening, and it had ended on a bad note. For her part, she just wanted to be alone and think. But that didn’t seem likely to happen tonight. He would want explanations.
She was right. A split second after the door banged shut, his voice came from behind her, harsh on her unwilling ears.
"How did they find you? How do you know they're safe?"
She swiveled around slowly, deliberately, meeting his challenging eyes. "I don't know. But they need help. They need us. I told you, it's important. There’s more they're not telling us."
"Exactly," he snarled. "More they're not telling us."
"Are you afraid of them?" she asked innocently.
Her only answer was a scornful silence, but she could feel that his mind was still on the arrow in his hand. It had done something for him, as she'd known it would. He was not afraid of the red-haired girl's axe, but he was afraid of Lutra.
"You don’t know anything about them."
"I do too, Micah. You know that."
"It's a waste of time. I'm in the middle of something."
She smiled, and walked toward him, twined her fingers through his, and leaned up to give him a kiss. "You don't have to come," she said. "I just want you to."
She knew he wouldn't have let her go alone anyway, but those words had the same magical effect on him as they always did. He smiled, the darkness in his eyes lifting a few shades. He ran his hand through her hair, staring in her eyes.
"All right, Annie," he said. "I'll come with you."
She felt terrible for using her power over him in this way. She knew that whatever she wanted him to do, he would. She knew that most of his anxiety about their visitors was for her. She knew how, for all he would yell at her, he would lose sleep just to watch over her at night while she had her strange dreams.
She tried to alleviate her guilt by reaching her hands up and massaging his shoulders with surprising strength. "You've been working too hard, Micah."
"You always say that," he said absently, kissing her curls.
"And you always have. This will be good for you. Like a vacation." She stroked his face with her fingertips, feeling his too-prominent cheekbones. "I worry about you, you know."
He laughed darkly, remembering, she knew, the worry over her that drove everything he did. "You worry, do you? You shouldn’t."
Suddenly her weariness overtook her and she felt close to tears. "I can't help it." She knew his worry was nothing to her own sometimes, unbearably heavy in her stomach. Fear for him was the only thing that made her fear death. How would he ever get on without her?
He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the quaver in her breathing. "Dear Annie. I think *you* have been working too hard."
She swallowed, and her voice masking tears sounded like a little girl's. "I'm going to bed now. I'm very tired." And it was true. The dream world called to her, obscuring her vision even now with apparitions. She did not really want to sleep. She was afraid, afraid of what the visitors had given her. Despite everything, she was afraid she would not be able to help them.
He looked at her gravely, then nodded. "Yes, you will sleep... And then tomorrow we will go with them."
She smiled wearily. He was so eager sometimes in spite of himself, wanting her always to be happy. She would be happy for his sake, and for Lutra's sake. She would not let the dreams consume her.
"Thank you, Micah. I love you. Sleep well."
With a final kiss she was gone, to the spare bedroom where the full moon was shining on the bed. It was not until much later that she actually slept, fighting the darkness, thinking about arrows and blood.
The following story will not make very much sense to the average person, because it is set after Buzzy's and my roleplay. However, Emma and Victor don't care, so. Here it is.
Blood and Arrows, by Rachel
Annie was flinching inwardly even as she showed the Fae out the door. Micah was not going to be happy about what had happened this evening, and it had ended on a bad note. For her part, she just wanted to be alone and think. But that didn’t seem likely to happen tonight. He would want explanations.
She was right. A split second after the door banged shut, his voice came from behind her, harsh on her unwilling ears.
"How did they find you? How do you know they're safe?"
She swiveled around slowly, deliberately, meeting his challenging eyes. "I don't know. But they need help. They need us. I told you, it's important. There’s more they're not telling us."
"Exactly," he snarled. "More they're not telling us."
"Are you afraid of them?" she asked innocently.
Her only answer was a scornful silence, but she could feel that his mind was still on the arrow in his hand. It had done something for him, as she'd known it would. He was not afraid of the red-haired girl's axe, but he was afraid of Lutra.
"You don’t know anything about them."
"I do too, Micah. You know that."
"It's a waste of time. I'm in the middle of something."
She smiled, and walked toward him, twined her fingers through his, and leaned up to give him a kiss. "You don't have to come," she said. "I just want you to."
She knew he wouldn't have let her go alone anyway, but those words had the same magical effect on him as they always did. He smiled, the darkness in his eyes lifting a few shades. He ran his hand through her hair, staring in her eyes.
"All right, Annie," he said. "I'll come with you."
She felt terrible for using her power over him in this way. She knew that whatever she wanted him to do, he would. She knew that most of his anxiety about their visitors was for her. She knew how, for all he would yell at her, he would lose sleep just to watch over her at night while she had her strange dreams.
She tried to alleviate her guilt by reaching her hands up and massaging his shoulders with surprising strength. "You've been working too hard, Micah."
"You always say that," he said absently, kissing her curls.
"And you always have. This will be good for you. Like a vacation." She stroked his face with her fingertips, feeling his too-prominent cheekbones. "I worry about you, you know."
He laughed darkly, remembering, she knew, the worry over her that drove everything he did. "You worry, do you? You shouldn’t."
Suddenly her weariness overtook her and she felt close to tears. "I can't help it." She knew his worry was nothing to her own sometimes, unbearably heavy in her stomach. Fear for him was the only thing that made her fear death. How would he ever get on without her?
He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the quaver in her breathing. "Dear Annie. I think *you* have been working too hard."
She swallowed, and her voice masking tears sounded like a little girl's. "I'm going to bed now. I'm very tired." And it was true. The dream world called to her, obscuring her vision even now with apparitions. She did not really want to sleep. She was afraid, afraid of what the visitors had given her. Despite everything, she was afraid she would not be able to help them.
He looked at her gravely, then nodded. "Yes, you will sleep... And then tomorrow we will go with them."
She smiled wearily. He was so eager sometimes in spite of himself, wanting her always to be happy. She would be happy for his sake, and for Lutra's sake. She would not let the dreams consume her.
"Thank you, Micah. I love you. Sleep well."
With a final kiss she was gone, to the spare bedroom where the full moon was shining on the bed. It was not until much later that she actually slept, fighting the darkness, thinking about arrows and blood.