and done!
Chocolate #8. Appreciation with Whipped Cream
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1241-42
The cubby under the stairs was one of Lyssa’s favorite spots. It never could quite match the boughs of the oak out back, but, well, it was winter, and climbing the thing when it was all bare and snow crusted wasn’t so pleasant anymore. Lots of things weren’t so pleasant anymore. In fact, anything that required more than one person to play was simply out of the question. And so, as she often did nowadays, she was sulking in the cubby.
Even it was beginning to lose its charm. When she was smaller, the old closet had been a great place to stash all her treasures. The brackets on which shelves had once rested provided tiny ledges where all things precious to a little girl - brightly colored stones from the yard, iridescent shells gathered on the beach, fall leaves, and spring buds - could stand in their neat little rows to be peered up at. Now she had to duck her head to squeeze inside and either her shoulders scraped one side, or her feet scraped the other, which left no room for pretty things along the walls.
Lyssa heaved a sigh, then coughed at the dust such a careless action had stirred. She wondered, as she often did lately, if Ski, wherever she was, knew just how selfish and mean she was being by going there. She hoped she did. She hoped it made Ski as sad to leave her alone as it made her to be left. She wondered if Ski had any trees to climb or dark spaces to hide in when she did feel sad.
There were footsteps. Not on the stairs, but in the hall, coming closer. In a moment they’d be walking past. She considered throwing open the door and leaping out at whomever it was. Ski was the only one that ever liked that game, and that was only maybe half of the time. With another sigh, this one much more controlled, she ruled the idea out.
The footsteps paused and Lyssa held her breath, hoping to ascertain their location. Though she reasoned that they had to be right on the other side of the wall, it didn’t stop her from jumping at the knock on the door. She struck the wall with a loud thump and fell back to the floor with equal force. She rubbed her sore shoulder and hoped they didn’t hear and would just go away.
“Lyssa?” Mother’s voice. No chance on that ‘going away’ business. Lyssa groaned.
Small fingers flipped the latch she’d rigged ages ago to keep prying adults out of her territory, and the cubby door swung outward. Her mother was stooped low to the floor, broad blue skirts spread and settled in a cloud around her knees. She angled one blonde brow in that concerned yet disapproving look that Ski had learned so well to imitate.
“The closet again, Lyss?” Lyssa scowled. “You barely fit in there anymore.”
Hands on either side of the open door, she hauled herself out. “Nothin’ to do out here,” she said.
“No sister to chase?” said Mother.
Lyssa nodded, slowly working her lip between her teeth.
“I am here.” Lyssa returned the raised brow and her mother smiled. “I miss her too, you know.” In all her time climbing or hiding, Lyssa hadn’t thought of that. “I am rather missing someone to help me out around here.”
So that’s where this was going. Lyssa frowned. “Help?” she said. “With what?”
“Oh,” said Mother. “I was thinking about making cookies. But how would I manage that by myself?”
Lyssa’s eyes lit up at the mention of cookies. And no Ski meant more of them for her. She suspected Mother was on to this reasoning, because she was smiling again. “I’ll help,” she said, kicking the cubby door shut behind her as her mother led the way to the kitchen.
Story : knights & necromancers
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1241-42
The cubby under the stairs was one of Lyssa’s favorite spots. It never could quite match the boughs of the oak out back, but, well, it was winter, and climbing the thing when it was all bare and snow crusted wasn’t so pleasant anymore. Lots of things weren’t so pleasant anymore. In fact, anything that required more than one person to play was simply out of the question. And so, as she often did nowadays, she was sulking in the cubby.
Even it was beginning to lose its charm. When she was smaller, the old closet had been a great place to stash all her treasures. The brackets on which shelves had once rested provided tiny ledges where all things precious to a little girl - brightly colored stones from the yard, iridescent shells gathered on the beach, fall leaves, and spring buds - could stand in their neat little rows to be peered up at. Now she had to duck her head to squeeze inside and either her shoulders scraped one side, or her feet scraped the other, which left no room for pretty things along the walls.
Lyssa heaved a sigh, then coughed at the dust such a careless action had stirred. She wondered, as she often did lately, if Ski, wherever she was, knew just how selfish and mean she was being by going there. She hoped she did. She hoped it made Ski as sad to leave her alone as it made her to be left. She wondered if Ski had any trees to climb or dark spaces to hide in when she did feel sad.
There were footsteps. Not on the stairs, but in the hall, coming closer. In a moment they’d be walking past. She considered throwing open the door and leaping out at whomever it was. Ski was the only one that ever liked that game, and that was only maybe half of the time. With another sigh, this one much more controlled, she ruled the idea out.
The footsteps paused and Lyssa held her breath, hoping to ascertain their location. Though she reasoned that they had to be right on the other side of the wall, it didn’t stop her from jumping at the knock on the door. She struck the wall with a loud thump and fell back to the floor with equal force. She rubbed her sore shoulder and hoped they didn’t hear and would just go away.
“Lyssa?” Mother’s voice. No chance on that ‘going away’ business. Lyssa groaned.
Small fingers flipped the latch she’d rigged ages ago to keep prying adults out of her territory, and the cubby door swung outward. Her mother was stooped low to the floor, broad blue skirts spread and settled in a cloud around her knees. She angled one blonde brow in that concerned yet disapproving look that Ski had learned so well to imitate.
“The closet again, Lyss?” Lyssa scowled. “You barely fit in there anymore.”
Hands on either side of the open door, she hauled herself out. “Nothin’ to do out here,” she said.
“No sister to chase?” said Mother.
Lyssa nodded, slowly working her lip between her teeth.
“I am here.” Lyssa returned the raised brow and her mother smiled. “I miss her too, you know.” In all her time climbing or hiding, Lyssa hadn’t thought of that. “I am rather missing someone to help me out around here.”
So that’s where this was going. Lyssa frowned. “Help?” she said. “With what?”
“Oh,” said Mother. “I was thinking about making cookies. But how would I manage that by myself?”
Lyssa’s eyes lit up at the mention of cookies. And no Ski meant more of them for her. She suspected Mother was on to this reasoning, because she was smiling again. “I’ll help,” she said, kicking the cubby door shut behind her as her mother led the way to the kitchen.