(no subject)
Pear #20. Song & Dance
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1263
Word Count : 1322
Lyssa found herself on a leisurely stroll through the halls. Any visit to her parents’ estate that lasted more than a day or two was enough to remind her that there was nothing to do in the place. Not that that was any excuse to be headed for the kitchen.
Not that she needed an excuse to go to the kitchen. It was her house, after all. Nevermind that was where Kairn was. It wasn’t as if she were headed that way simply to see him. And if she was, well, he was sort of her ward anyway. Was. If anything, he was Ski’s problem now. Which left her back at her original state, having nothing to do. And, excuses or not, she was definitely headed for the kitchen.
She poked her head through the open door, took one sweeping look through the room, over the pair of girls, one of them kneading dough on the counter, the other sorting the silver in the drawers, and frowned.
“Where’s Kairn?”
There was a nervous, wide-eyed look from the younger girl as she continued to move knives, one handed, from counter to drawer. “Not here, miss.”
Lyssa drummed her fingers along the doorframe. “No?”
The other girl tossed her dough against the counter with a slow shake of her head. “No, miss. Mona sent him off.”
Lyssa scowled, her hand curling tight against the wood. “Sent him-”
“Lyssa!” The head cook stalked into the kitchen from the far end, wringing thick hands in her oversized apron, a look no less fierce than Lyssa’s on her round face.
“Mona,” said Lyssa, a sheepish look quickly taking over. One minute in the woman’s presence and it was like she was five and caught swiping cookies again.
“You could have warned me,” Mona said. The girl with the bread ducked out of her way as she reached for the cabinets above and pulled down a hefty wooden bowl.
“Warned you?” said Lyssa, edging her way through the door.
Mona turned with a shake of her head and a sigh, hands planted on wide, aproned hips. “You know I don’t mind you coming in here to cook now and then, even if you do make a mess,” she said, “but that boy was a disaster! Broke three plates just this morning.” She flailed a hand at the cabinets. “And Cecilie’s hand…“ The girl offered a strained smile and deposited another knife gingerly into the drawer, and Lyssa bit her lip. “You know he offered to fix her up with magic? Magic! I had to have him out of here before he caused any more harm”
“I am sorry,” said Lyssa. “Cecilie, really. Are you…?”
“I’ll be fine, miss.” She held up the bandaged limb as if to offer proof and Lyssa cringed.
Mona shoved the bowl towards the other girl, who deposited her dough and retreated to the sink. “I don’t know what you think you’re pulling, miss,” said Mona as she tossed a towel over the dough, “but I am not here to babysit your men.”
“I- No! No, of course not.” Lyssa had been dragging a hand through the flour as she made her way around the counter, and she paused with an effort not to laugh at the thought. “I, er, I am sorry. I do need to find somewhere to put him though.”
“Well, next time you want to sneak men in her under your mother’s nose, you can leave me out of it.
“I’m not-” She picked up her hand, eyed the white tips of her fingers, and with a sigh, gave it a brush against her skirt. “Any idea where he might be?”
“Sure,” said Mona, sweeping the rest of the dust from the countertop. “Last I saw, he was out in the garden with Mara and his boy.”
“With Mara?”
The cook shrugged. “Ask your sister.”
She found her sister lounging in a chair at the edge of the garden, a book spread open across her knees, while Kairn and the pair of toddlers pranced about on the lawn, voices raised in discordant verse.
“What are you doing?”
Ski looked from the book to Lyssa and slowly raised a brow. “Reading,” she said, “what does it look like?”
Lyssa rolled her eyes. “Alright, what are they doing?” She aimed a finger at the man spinning in the grass, a chubby little hand gripped in each of his own.
Ski shrugged, shifted her weight in the chair, and closed the book around her thumb. “It would seem to me that they are having a game of Saier‘s Gate,” she said. A grin crept across her lips. “You know, perhaps he does not pass as a cook, but it seems he makes a splendid nanny.”
Lyssa snorted. “He does, does he?”
The dance paused, Kairn freed a hand to send her a wave.
“The children are having a lovely time.” They were eagerly bobbing around his shins in anticipation of another round while Kairn stood there smiling at her.
“Mama!” Mara called, pudgy hands swinging in the air.
Lyssa retruned both their waves with a smile. Kairn hesitated, as if judging whether he should come to meet them, and Lyssa shook her head. “Well,” she said to Ski, as the game resumed, “that works well enough, I suppose, even if it is a bit awkward.”
“Pardon?”
Mara pranced under Kairn’s outstretched arm and spun round with Sham until the two toddlers were tumbling to the ground and all three were laughing. “What’s Mother have to say about you using my supposed lover as a nursemaid?”
“It is your daughter he is tending to after all.”
“Hmph.” She slouched against the back of Ski’s chair “You know, I mind all the gossip a lot less when I don’t have to be around to hear it.”
“At least you get to leave it when you like.” She swung her feet down off of the lounge into the grass. “I, on the other hand, have another of Mother’s little arrangements to attend tonight.”
“Oh?” said Lyssa, still distracted by Kairn and the children. Shamino was crossing the ficticious portal now as Mara scampered around them both as fast as her tiny legs would carry her.
“Percival Branimir.”
“Percy?” said Lyssa. “You know I once-” She caught herself, head snapping back to meet Ski’s steely blue gaze, and hastily cleared her throat. “Er, nice fellow, Percy.”
“Thank you.” Ski rose and tossed her book down on the seat. “I think I shall leave it at your word.”
“As if you give any of them a chance anyway.”
“No, I don’t know how to move on,” said Ski, following her gaze to the trio. “Unlike you. “
Lyssa turned her attention quickly to the seat in front of her. She gave the book a prod, read the cover. “Fairy tales?” she said, lifting it from the chair to peer over it at her sister.
“The children like them,” said Ski. “And I had thought there might be something to-” She scowled. “You are changing the subject.”
Lyssa dropped the book with a snort and looked back to Kairn, who was now twirling a giggling Mara in the air. “Well, at least I found a fellow that’s good with kids.”
Ski laughed, then stopped abruptly, looking from one to the other. “You’re not, are you?”
“Not what?”
“You and Kairn…because the way you have been looking…”
“Oh, I have, have I?” said Lyssa, pushing off from the chair. Ski was watching her, fully serious, waiting for an answer. Lyssa folded her arms and swept past her. “You know, I think I’m going to go play a few rounds. Have fun with your date.”
“You have yet to answer my question.”
Not bothering to look her way Lyssa shot her a gesture. It was just a bit of harmless singing and dancing, and he was tending her daughter after all.
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1263
Word Count : 1322
Lyssa found herself on a leisurely stroll through the halls. Any visit to her parents’ estate that lasted more than a day or two was enough to remind her that there was nothing to do in the place. Not that that was any excuse to be headed for the kitchen.
Not that she needed an excuse to go to the kitchen. It was her house, after all. Nevermind that was where Kairn was. It wasn’t as if she were headed that way simply to see him. And if she was, well, he was sort of her ward anyway. Was. If anything, he was Ski’s problem now. Which left her back at her original state, having nothing to do. And, excuses or not, she was definitely headed for the kitchen.
She poked her head through the open door, took one sweeping look through the room, over the pair of girls, one of them kneading dough on the counter, the other sorting the silver in the drawers, and frowned.
“Where’s Kairn?”
There was a nervous, wide-eyed look from the younger girl as she continued to move knives, one handed, from counter to drawer. “Not here, miss.”
Lyssa drummed her fingers along the doorframe. “No?”
The other girl tossed her dough against the counter with a slow shake of her head. “No, miss. Mona sent him off.”
Lyssa scowled, her hand curling tight against the wood. “Sent him-”
“Lyssa!” The head cook stalked into the kitchen from the far end, wringing thick hands in her oversized apron, a look no less fierce than Lyssa’s on her round face.
“Mona,” said Lyssa, a sheepish look quickly taking over. One minute in the woman’s presence and it was like she was five and caught swiping cookies again.
“You could have warned me,” Mona said. The girl with the bread ducked out of her way as she reached for the cabinets above and pulled down a hefty wooden bowl.
“Warned you?” said Lyssa, edging her way through the door.
Mona turned with a shake of her head and a sigh, hands planted on wide, aproned hips. “You know I don’t mind you coming in here to cook now and then, even if you do make a mess,” she said, “but that boy was a disaster! Broke three plates just this morning.” She flailed a hand at the cabinets. “And Cecilie’s hand…“ The girl offered a strained smile and deposited another knife gingerly into the drawer, and Lyssa bit her lip. “You know he offered to fix her up with magic? Magic! I had to have him out of here before he caused any more harm”
“I am sorry,” said Lyssa. “Cecilie, really. Are you…?”
“I’ll be fine, miss.” She held up the bandaged limb as if to offer proof and Lyssa cringed.
Mona shoved the bowl towards the other girl, who deposited her dough and retreated to the sink. “I don’t know what you think you’re pulling, miss,” said Mona as she tossed a towel over the dough, “but I am not here to babysit your men.”
“I- No! No, of course not.” Lyssa had been dragging a hand through the flour as she made her way around the counter, and she paused with an effort not to laugh at the thought. “I, er, I am sorry. I do need to find somewhere to put him though.”
“Well, next time you want to sneak men in her under your mother’s nose, you can leave me out of it.
“I’m not-” She picked up her hand, eyed the white tips of her fingers, and with a sigh, gave it a brush against her skirt. “Any idea where he might be?”
“Sure,” said Mona, sweeping the rest of the dust from the countertop. “Last I saw, he was out in the garden with Mara and his boy.”
“With Mara?”
The cook shrugged. “Ask your sister.”
She found her sister lounging in a chair at the edge of the garden, a book spread open across her knees, while Kairn and the pair of toddlers pranced about on the lawn, voices raised in discordant verse.
“What are you doing?”
Ski looked from the book to Lyssa and slowly raised a brow. “Reading,” she said, “what does it look like?”
Lyssa rolled her eyes. “Alright, what are they doing?” She aimed a finger at the man spinning in the grass, a chubby little hand gripped in each of his own.
Ski shrugged, shifted her weight in the chair, and closed the book around her thumb. “It would seem to me that they are having a game of Saier‘s Gate,” she said. A grin crept across her lips. “You know, perhaps he does not pass as a cook, but it seems he makes a splendid nanny.”
Lyssa snorted. “He does, does he?”
The dance paused, Kairn freed a hand to send her a wave.
“The children are having a lovely time.” They were eagerly bobbing around his shins in anticipation of another round while Kairn stood there smiling at her.
“Mama!” Mara called, pudgy hands swinging in the air.
Lyssa retruned both their waves with a smile. Kairn hesitated, as if judging whether he should come to meet them, and Lyssa shook her head. “Well,” she said to Ski, as the game resumed, “that works well enough, I suppose, even if it is a bit awkward.”
“Pardon?”
Mara pranced under Kairn’s outstretched arm and spun round with Sham until the two toddlers were tumbling to the ground and all three were laughing. “What’s Mother have to say about you using my supposed lover as a nursemaid?”
“It is your daughter he is tending to after all.”
“Hmph.” She slouched against the back of Ski’s chair “You know, I mind all the gossip a lot less when I don’t have to be around to hear it.”
“At least you get to leave it when you like.” She swung her feet down off of the lounge into the grass. “I, on the other hand, have another of Mother’s little arrangements to attend tonight.”
“Oh?” said Lyssa, still distracted by Kairn and the children. Shamino was crossing the ficticious portal now as Mara scampered around them both as fast as her tiny legs would carry her.
“Percival Branimir.”
“Percy?” said Lyssa. “You know I once-” She caught herself, head snapping back to meet Ski’s steely blue gaze, and hastily cleared her throat. “Er, nice fellow, Percy.”
“Thank you.” Ski rose and tossed her book down on the seat. “I think I shall leave it at your word.”
“As if you give any of them a chance anyway.”
“No, I don’t know how to move on,” said Ski, following her gaze to the trio. “Unlike you. “
Lyssa turned her attention quickly to the seat in front of her. She gave the book a prod, read the cover. “Fairy tales?” she said, lifting it from the chair to peer over it at her sister.
“The children like them,” said Ski. “And I had thought there might be something to-” She scowled. “You are changing the subject.”
Lyssa dropped the book with a snort and looked back to Kairn, who was now twirling a giggling Mara in the air. “Well, at least I found a fellow that’s good with kids.”
Ski laughed, then stopped abruptly, looking from one to the other. “You’re not, are you?”
“Not what?”
“You and Kairn…because the way you have been looking…”
“Oh, I have, have I?” said Lyssa, pushing off from the chair. Ski was watching her, fully serious, waiting for an answer. Lyssa folded her arms and swept past her. “You know, I think I’m going to go play a few rounds. Have fun with your date.”
“You have yet to answer my question.”
Not bothering to look her way Lyssa shot her a gesture. It was just a bit of harmless singing and dancing, and he was tending her daughter after all.