(no subject)
Mocha #6. Make My Day
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1254
Word Count : 1173
The back door rattled open. There was a thump of boots being tossed to the floor, the rustling of a cloak finding a peg. Hand tucked between the open pages, Rune shoved the book across his lap.
“How’d it go?” he called over his shoulder to the kitchen.
“Dreadful,” came Ski’s weary response
“There’s tea on the stove,” he said, eyeing his own cup resting before him.
“Oh,” said Ski, her tone warming considerably, “you are lovely.”
Rune laughed. “I try.”
He peered over his shoulder just as Ski settled herself in the doorway, steaming mug in her hand, scowling into its contents as she batted them about with a spoon.
“So, the usual?” he said.
Ski sniffed “At least I was not required to stay the night,” she said. “I think I would not have endured breakfast without causing injury to someone along the way. What with Terrel pawing anything that moves when he thinks I am not looking and trying to lay those hands on me whenever it occurs to him that I am, it is more than one can take.” At the thought of Terrel losing a limb at an attempted pass, Rune couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “You know, it never used to bother me so much, but…” With a sigh, she dropped the spoon and gave a tired glance about the room. “Where is everyone else?”
“Asleep.”
“It is late, I suppose.” She shoved off of the doorframe, clutching her drink in both hands, and crossed the space to the couch. “What has you up?”
Waiting for you didn’t quite seem the right response, so he shrugged instead. “Not tired.”
“Just as well,” said Ski, laying the mug to rest on the table beside Rune’s. “I could use some company of the sane variety.”
Rune gathered up his legs and pulled himself to one side of the couch. “No objections here.”
Ski settled at the far end, an empty swath of cushion between them, and propped her feet beside her drink with a sigh. “The simple things that can improve one’s day,” she said, stretching out over the pillows. She spied the book still open on his knee and raised a brow. “You were reading?”
Rune shrugged, closed the book over his hand. “It’s nothing really,” he said.
Her gaze slid over the spine and her brow arched further. “Children’s stories?” she said, and he felt a trace of a blush creep across his cheeks.
“You’re the one that brought it along.”
“That I did,” said Ski, a hint of a smile playing over her lips as she reached for her tea.
“It’s just,” he let the book fall back open and ran a hand across the illustrated page. “I never thought about it when I was a kid, but there is an awful lot of magic in these, and I was wondering if there was maybe something to that.”
Ski leaned in, tea balanced in one hand as she peered around his fingers for the page. “The Wind Fairy,” she said, smile widening. “Oh, I loved that one when I was a girl.”
Rune lifted his hand to frown at the flowery text and the brightly inked picture of the tall tower on the cliff it framed. “She spends half the story locked in a tower,” he said.
“While her lover scales the mountain and battles the dragon, simply so he can see her again.” There was an odd glow to her cheeks as she stared at the page. “It’s so terribly romantic.”
“You want Terrel to take on a dragon for you?”
She straightened herself hastily, hand bobbing and swaying to correct for the motion and hold on to her tea. “Well,” she said, lips twisting sourly, “it certainly would be more entertaining than watching him grope the maids.” She shook her head and ventured a sip. “And one could always hope the thing would eat him.”
Rune laughed. “There is that,” he said. The tower lay, a sharp, spindly streak of black, against distant mountains and drifting fields of purple clouds. “I never did understand why she just waits all that time. I mean, she is the wind fairy and all. You’d think she could just fly away.”
Ski laughed, took another sip, and grinned at him over the rim of her cup. “Ah, but you are missing the point,” she said. “She could not take her lover with her if she flew away. True they would be safe, but they would both be…alone.”
He started at her a long moment, uncertain what to say. The woman was all but giddy over a children’s tale, and one that made little sense at that. “It’s not like you,” he said at last.
“What?”
“Desires over practicality; romance.”
She dove to replace the cup on the table, color spreading over her cheeks. “It’s a story,” she said. “There is enough place for practicality in the real world. Can a girl not have a fantasy now and then?”
Rune laughed. “I suppose that’s only fair.”
She had her hand on the book, turning it around in his lap, and she flipped the pages to the end of the story, another colorful spread of the couple heading for the sunset. “You know, I wonder, when all the dragons are slain and the spells broken, are they really happy ever after? I mean, ever after is a dreadfully long time, and I should think it all grows a bit…mundane.”
“I don’t know,” said Rune. “I never put much faith in the whole dragon slaying bits of romance. I’ve always thought love was something more like having a friend, someone you wanted to be with…through the mundane…and all…” He trailed off under a look of disbelief as strong as he’d shown her a moment ago.
“And how,” she said, drawing herself back up away from the book, “is that any less a work of fiction? At least mine has dragons.”
“Yeah.” Rune shut the book and tossed it down on the table. “Well, here we are, sitting up alone in the middle of the night with a book of children’s stories and a pot of tea.”
Ski sniffed. “Experts on romance, both of us.”
There was a long pause as they both stared at the book.
Rune made a grab for his cup. He clutched it close, frowning into the murky liquid, steam curling up past his nose. “I’d fight a dragon for a girl,” he said, feeling utterly foolish as the words passed his lips. “If…if I had to, I suppose,” he quickly added, as if that made it sound any better.
Ski laughed. “That thing would eat you almost as fast as it would Terrel.”
Cheeks burning, Rune laughed too and took an awkward sip in hopes of covering himself. “You’re probably right,” he said. “But I’d still do it.”
Ski eyed the book with a thoughtful frown. “I wonder if any man would let me fight a dragon for him,” she said.
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1254
Word Count : 1173
The back door rattled open. There was a thump of boots being tossed to the floor, the rustling of a cloak finding a peg. Hand tucked between the open pages, Rune shoved the book across his lap.
“How’d it go?” he called over his shoulder to the kitchen.
“Dreadful,” came Ski’s weary response
“There’s tea on the stove,” he said, eyeing his own cup resting before him.
“Oh,” said Ski, her tone warming considerably, “you are lovely.”
Rune laughed. “I try.”
He peered over his shoulder just as Ski settled herself in the doorway, steaming mug in her hand, scowling into its contents as she batted them about with a spoon.
“So, the usual?” he said.
Ski sniffed “At least I was not required to stay the night,” she said. “I think I would not have endured breakfast without causing injury to someone along the way. What with Terrel pawing anything that moves when he thinks I am not looking and trying to lay those hands on me whenever it occurs to him that I am, it is more than one can take.” At the thought of Terrel losing a limb at an attempted pass, Rune couldn’t help but smile and shake his head. “You know, it never used to bother me so much, but…” With a sigh, she dropped the spoon and gave a tired glance about the room. “Where is everyone else?”
“Asleep.”
“It is late, I suppose.” She shoved off of the doorframe, clutching her drink in both hands, and crossed the space to the couch. “What has you up?”
Waiting for you didn’t quite seem the right response, so he shrugged instead. “Not tired.”
“Just as well,” said Ski, laying the mug to rest on the table beside Rune’s. “I could use some company of the sane variety.”
Rune gathered up his legs and pulled himself to one side of the couch. “No objections here.”
Ski settled at the far end, an empty swath of cushion between them, and propped her feet beside her drink with a sigh. “The simple things that can improve one’s day,” she said, stretching out over the pillows. She spied the book still open on his knee and raised a brow. “You were reading?”
Rune shrugged, closed the book over his hand. “It’s nothing really,” he said.
Her gaze slid over the spine and her brow arched further. “Children’s stories?” she said, and he felt a trace of a blush creep across his cheeks.
“You’re the one that brought it along.”
“That I did,” said Ski, a hint of a smile playing over her lips as she reached for her tea.
“It’s just,” he let the book fall back open and ran a hand across the illustrated page. “I never thought about it when I was a kid, but there is an awful lot of magic in these, and I was wondering if there was maybe something to that.”
Ski leaned in, tea balanced in one hand as she peered around his fingers for the page. “The Wind Fairy,” she said, smile widening. “Oh, I loved that one when I was a girl.”
Rune lifted his hand to frown at the flowery text and the brightly inked picture of the tall tower on the cliff it framed. “She spends half the story locked in a tower,” he said.
“While her lover scales the mountain and battles the dragon, simply so he can see her again.” There was an odd glow to her cheeks as she stared at the page. “It’s so terribly romantic.”
“You want Terrel to take on a dragon for you?”
She straightened herself hastily, hand bobbing and swaying to correct for the motion and hold on to her tea. “Well,” she said, lips twisting sourly, “it certainly would be more entertaining than watching him grope the maids.” She shook her head and ventured a sip. “And one could always hope the thing would eat him.”
Rune laughed. “There is that,” he said. The tower lay, a sharp, spindly streak of black, against distant mountains and drifting fields of purple clouds. “I never did understand why she just waits all that time. I mean, she is the wind fairy and all. You’d think she could just fly away.”
Ski laughed, took another sip, and grinned at him over the rim of her cup. “Ah, but you are missing the point,” she said. “She could not take her lover with her if she flew away. True they would be safe, but they would both be…alone.”
He started at her a long moment, uncertain what to say. The woman was all but giddy over a children’s tale, and one that made little sense at that. “It’s not like you,” he said at last.
“What?”
“Desires over practicality; romance.”
She dove to replace the cup on the table, color spreading over her cheeks. “It’s a story,” she said. “There is enough place for practicality in the real world. Can a girl not have a fantasy now and then?”
Rune laughed. “I suppose that’s only fair.”
She had her hand on the book, turning it around in his lap, and she flipped the pages to the end of the story, another colorful spread of the couple heading for the sunset. “You know, I wonder, when all the dragons are slain and the spells broken, are they really happy ever after? I mean, ever after is a dreadfully long time, and I should think it all grows a bit…mundane.”
“I don’t know,” said Rune. “I never put much faith in the whole dragon slaying bits of romance. I’ve always thought love was something more like having a friend, someone you wanted to be with…through the mundane…and all…” He trailed off under a look of disbelief as strong as he’d shown her a moment ago.
“And how,” she said, drawing herself back up away from the book, “is that any less a work of fiction? At least mine has dragons.”
“Yeah.” Rune shut the book and tossed it down on the table. “Well, here we are, sitting up alone in the middle of the night with a book of children’s stories and a pot of tea.”
Ski sniffed. “Experts on romance, both of us.”
There was a long pause as they both stared at the book.
Rune made a grab for his cup. He clutched it close, frowning into the murky liquid, steam curling up past his nose. “I’d fight a dragon for a girl,” he said, feeling utterly foolish as the words passed his lips. “If…if I had to, I suppose,” he quickly added, as if that made it sound any better.
Ski laughed. “That thing would eat you almost as fast as it would Terrel.”
Cheeks burning, Rune laughed too and took an awkward sip in hopes of covering himself. “You’re probably right,” he said. “But I’d still do it.”
Ski eyed the book with a thoughtful frown. “I wonder if any man would let me fight a dragon for him,” she said.