(no subject)
Pistachio #18. I should have known
Story : knights
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1266
So I have a wierd question for anyone who's been reading my stuff. I'm considering amending a detail, and I'm wondering now if I've ever even made mention of it in the first place. Have I ever actually stated what color hair Mara has?
“You will kindly stop filling my daughter’s head with such things.”
Lyssa’s hands wound their way into fists as she glared at her sister. “Oh, so now she’s your daughter? That didn’t take long.”
Ski kept her eyes to the counter and the ritual cleaning that followed Mara’s bedtime. “As I recall, this whole arrangement was your idea.”
Nails bit flesh as Lyssa tried to steady her voice. “And it seems to be working out just splendidly for you.”
Ski spun to face her, tossing the rag down with a soft splat. Steely eyes narrowed to match the menace in her tone. “It was, until you took it upon yourself to convince the child to want to be a warrior.”
“The way I see it, she doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.”
“I know,” said Ski. “I know. But that hardly calls for making demons the stuff of bedtime stories.”
“She’s five.” She let the fists go and took up her usual position of leaning against the kitchen table. “What would you have me tell her?”
With a sigh, Ski retrieved the soggy cloth and went back to dragging the thing across the counter. “Nothing,” she said. “Yet.”
Lyssa wound her arms tightly across her chest and glowered at the back of her sister’s head. “You’d sacrifice the whole bloody world just so you could keep her innocent?”
“No,” said Ski rather hastily, her fingers wringing a fresh burst of suds from the cloth. “Not to those lengths. Not forever.”
Lyssa’s nails lodged themselves in her skin once again as she fought the urge to grab the woman. “The longer you try,” she said. “the worse you make it on yourself.“ Ski persisted in mopping the already dripping counter. “You can try to hide away here on your cozy little farm with your head up your ass all you like, but you’re a part of this and so is she. I haven’t forgotten that, and you can be damned sure our enemies haven’t either.”
There was a long pause while Ski kneaded the soapy rag in her hand. Lyssa swore she heard a sniff. “Alright,” she said, tossing the thing aside again. “Alright,” and she turned to face her. The anger in her eyes was still there, but it was quickly losing ground to something else. Exhaustion, Lyssa thought. “Tell her what you like. She is your daughter, after all.”
Story : knights
Rating : PG
Timeframe : 1266
So I have a wierd question for anyone who's been reading my stuff. I'm considering amending a detail, and I'm wondering now if I've ever even made mention of it in the first place. Have I ever actually stated what color hair Mara has?
“You will kindly stop filling my daughter’s head with such things.”
Lyssa’s hands wound their way into fists as she glared at her sister. “Oh, so now she’s your daughter? That didn’t take long.”
Ski kept her eyes to the counter and the ritual cleaning that followed Mara’s bedtime. “As I recall, this whole arrangement was your idea.”
Nails bit flesh as Lyssa tried to steady her voice. “And it seems to be working out just splendidly for you.”
Ski spun to face her, tossing the rag down with a soft splat. Steely eyes narrowed to match the menace in her tone. “It was, until you took it upon yourself to convince the child to want to be a warrior.”
“The way I see it, she doesn’t exactly have a choice in the matter.”
“I know,” said Ski. “I know. But that hardly calls for making demons the stuff of bedtime stories.”
“She’s five.” She let the fists go and took up her usual position of leaning against the kitchen table. “What would you have me tell her?”
With a sigh, Ski retrieved the soggy cloth and went back to dragging the thing across the counter. “Nothing,” she said. “Yet.”
Lyssa wound her arms tightly across her chest and glowered at the back of her sister’s head. “You’d sacrifice the whole bloody world just so you could keep her innocent?”
“No,” said Ski rather hastily, her fingers wringing a fresh burst of suds from the cloth. “Not to those lengths. Not forever.”
Lyssa’s nails lodged themselves in her skin once again as she fought the urge to grab the woman. “The longer you try,” she said. “the worse you make it on yourself.“ Ski persisted in mopping the already dripping counter. “You can try to hide away here on your cozy little farm with your head up your ass all you like, but you’re a part of this and so is she. I haven’t forgotten that, and you can be damned sure our enemies haven’t either.”
There was a long pause while Ski kneaded the soapy rag in her hand. Lyssa swore she heard a sniff. “Alright,” she said, tossing the thing aside again. “Alright,” and she turned to face her. The anger in her eyes was still there, but it was quickly losing ground to something else. Exhaustion, Lyssa thought. “Tell her what you like. She is your daughter, after all.”