[Wild Roses] second chances
Title: rituals
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Phoebe, the second Ian
Prompt: 57A "comfort"
Word Count: 359
Notes: This follows deliberate, and is followed itself by familiar stranger. Both of which will probably be revised at some point in the near future.
The chiming of a visitor crossing her borders startled her out of half-dozing contemplation of a book she'd read before, made her smile and shake her head. Ulysse again, most likely.
Setting down the book on the table nearest the chair as she rose, she crossed the room, closed the door to the library behind her. Ulysse came for her, her kitchen, not her books, and she had little desire to show off the untidy state of her library to anyone. Her daughter wouldn't have commented, except perhaps on a juxtaposition of volumes or an accidental rainbow of bound spines stretched across the library.
But Arianhrod was gone, and all Ulysse's questions came to her alone, instead of split between them.
She'd start mocking him for it soon, if he maintained the pattern, but first she'd make him welcome, give him tea, answer his questions. So she pulled down his tea mug and one of her own, a deep dark chocolate coloured base embellished with thin lines of red and gold that twined like flames or flowers between her fingers when she held it. Last of its long-ago set, the others worn out with use and forgetfullness--she'd lost a pair when she'd left the Keep, forgetting she'd sent them down to be cleaned instead of packed into her cupboard--but too loved to be left alone to gather dust.
She was standing by the door when an oddly hesitant boot hit the top step, opened the door without touching it, smiling a greeting that froze in her throat when she saw the stranger standing on her porch.
"Phoebe?" he asked, tone very nearly overfamiliar, especially for the age he looked.
"Yes?" she replied, wondering if he was seeking mage or Queen, referred by someone who'd not bothered to come with him to furnish introductions.
He smiled, bright delighted--heartbreaking--flash of teeth. "I'm Ian Sabaey."
She stared at him, for a very, very long moment, then turned her back abruptly and retreated back into the house. "I need tea."
She could hear him following her, at a distance, and couldn't make herself wonder how he knew that passed for an invitation.
'Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Phoebe, the second Ian
Prompt: 57A "comfort"
Word Count: 359
Notes: This follows deliberate, and is followed itself by familiar stranger. Both of which will probably be revised at some point in the near future.
The chiming of a visitor crossing her borders startled her out of half-dozing contemplation of a book she'd read before, made her smile and shake her head. Ulysse again, most likely.
Setting down the book on the table nearest the chair as she rose, she crossed the room, closed the door to the library behind her. Ulysse came for her, her kitchen, not her books, and she had little desire to show off the untidy state of her library to anyone. Her daughter wouldn't have commented, except perhaps on a juxtaposition of volumes or an accidental rainbow of bound spines stretched across the library.
But Arianhrod was gone, and all Ulysse's questions came to her alone, instead of split between them.
She'd start mocking him for it soon, if he maintained the pattern, but first she'd make him welcome, give him tea, answer his questions. So she pulled down his tea mug and one of her own, a deep dark chocolate coloured base embellished with thin lines of red and gold that twined like flames or flowers between her fingers when she held it. Last of its long-ago set, the others worn out with use and forgetfullness--she'd lost a pair when she'd left the Keep, forgetting she'd sent them down to be cleaned instead of packed into her cupboard--but too loved to be left alone to gather dust.
She was standing by the door when an oddly hesitant boot hit the top step, opened the door without touching it, smiling a greeting that froze in her throat when she saw the stranger standing on her porch.
"Phoebe?" he asked, tone very nearly overfamiliar, especially for the age he looked.
"Yes?" she replied, wondering if he was seeking mage or Queen, referred by someone who'd not bothered to come with him to furnish introductions.
He smiled, bright delighted--heartbreaking--flash of teeth. "I'm Ian Sabaey."
She stared at him, for a very, very long moment, then turned her back abruptly and retreated back into the house. "I need tea."
She could hear him following her, at a distance, and couldn't make herself wonder how he knew that passed for an invitation.