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Milk & Honey #3. Love Letters
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1255
Word Count : 571
Milk & Honey is still for Ski. She needs some love. This is still just filling out some more of the whole Rune/Ski, pre-Lyssa arc.
“Someone certainly is popular lately.” Ilya dropped another delicately lettered envelope onto the ever growing heap on the table.
Ski looked up from her book and scowled. “Another one? Who is it this time?”
Ilya shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s not as if you have answered any of them yet.”
“It has been little more than a month since Terrel announced his engagement and already I have at least a few dozen new suitors,” said Ski, snapping her book shut. “Half of them would like to accompany me to the wedding of the man I was supposed to marry. Is there not something wrong with that?”
Across the table, Tess started picking through the unopened letters. “When you put it that way,” she said, a slender pink envelope dropping from her fingers, “it is rather creepy.”
“Tell them all you’re still not over Terrel.” Farran suggested, from behind her own book.
Ski shot her a look, which only made Farran grin.
“Well,” said Ilya, as she settled into her chair across the room, “it may not be Terrel she is pining after, but nonetheless.”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?” said Ski.
Farran rolled her eyes. “Let’s not play this game again.”
“What game?”
“The one you and Rune have been playing all winter,” said Ilya.
Ski looked from one to the other, waiting for a sign and getting none. “Am I the only one at a loss as to what we are speaking of here?”
“Dear,” said Farran, slowly folding her book in her lap, “we all know something happened between the two of you at the ball.”
“Oh!” said Tess, her hand raised with another letter pinned between her fingers. “Why don’t you take Rune to the wedding?”
Ski stared at her for a moment with her mouth open. “Why would I- Please, there is nothing between the two of us. There never has been and there never will be.” Tess’s face fell at that. “He will not be my date for this or any other function. In fact, if my mother catches wind of even the slightest suggestion that the two of us might be engaged in anything inappropriate, the lot of you will soon be looking for a new captain, so I would greatly appreciate it if you let the notion rest.”
“So that is what she had to say to you after the meeting?” said Ilya.
“We’re sorry,” said Tess, looking hurt. “We shouldn’t have pushed you two at the ball. We weren’t looking for trouble. We just thought if you two, you know, got it out of your systems-” There was a bit of awkward gesturing, as if she didn’t quite want to commit to anything more explicit.
“It is not your fault,” said Ski, and Tess sighed.
“So is there something going on between you two?” Farran asked.
Ski ignored her in favor of the stack of letters. “I had best pick one of these.”
“What?” said Farran, in response to the pair of incredulous looks she was receiving from the other two. “If we’re going to be expected to lie for them, I’d like to know.”
Ski sifted through the papers, shoving them this way and that without really looking, before plucking one from the pile. She squinted at the writing across the front for a moment. “Gabriel Faustus,” she read. “It looks like you will be accompanying me to a wedding.”
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1255
Word Count : 571
Milk & Honey is still for Ski. She needs some love. This is still just filling out some more of the whole Rune/Ski, pre-Lyssa arc.
“Someone certainly is popular lately.” Ilya dropped another delicately lettered envelope onto the ever growing heap on the table.
Ski looked up from her book and scowled. “Another one? Who is it this time?”
Ilya shrugged. “Does it matter? It’s not as if you have answered any of them yet.”
“It has been little more than a month since Terrel announced his engagement and already I have at least a few dozen new suitors,” said Ski, snapping her book shut. “Half of them would like to accompany me to the wedding of the man I was supposed to marry. Is there not something wrong with that?”
Across the table, Tess started picking through the unopened letters. “When you put it that way,” she said, a slender pink envelope dropping from her fingers, “it is rather creepy.”
“Tell them all you’re still not over Terrel.” Farran suggested, from behind her own book.
Ski shot her a look, which only made Farran grin.
“Well,” said Ilya, as she settled into her chair across the room, “it may not be Terrel she is pining after, but nonetheless.”
“Just what is that supposed to mean?” said Ski.
Farran rolled her eyes. “Let’s not play this game again.”
“What game?”
“The one you and Rune have been playing all winter,” said Ilya.
Ski looked from one to the other, waiting for a sign and getting none. “Am I the only one at a loss as to what we are speaking of here?”
“Dear,” said Farran, slowly folding her book in her lap, “we all know something happened between the two of you at the ball.”
“Oh!” said Tess, her hand raised with another letter pinned between her fingers. “Why don’t you take Rune to the wedding?”
Ski stared at her for a moment with her mouth open. “Why would I- Please, there is nothing between the two of us. There never has been and there never will be.” Tess’s face fell at that. “He will not be my date for this or any other function. In fact, if my mother catches wind of even the slightest suggestion that the two of us might be engaged in anything inappropriate, the lot of you will soon be looking for a new captain, so I would greatly appreciate it if you let the notion rest.”
“So that is what she had to say to you after the meeting?” said Ilya.
“We’re sorry,” said Tess, looking hurt. “We shouldn’t have pushed you two at the ball. We weren’t looking for trouble. We just thought if you two, you know, got it out of your systems-” There was a bit of awkward gesturing, as if she didn’t quite want to commit to anything more explicit.
“It is not your fault,” said Ski, and Tess sighed.
“So is there something going on between you two?” Farran asked.
Ski ignored her in favor of the stack of letters. “I had best pick one of these.”
“What?” said Farran, in response to the pair of incredulous looks she was receiving from the other two. “If we’re going to be expected to lie for them, I’d like to know.”
Ski sifted through the papers, shoving them this way and that without really looking, before plucking one from the pile. She squinted at the writing across the front for a moment. “Gabriel Faustus,” she read. “It looks like you will be accompanying me to a wedding.”