Thank you write imagine
Strawberry #22. Flowers
Rating : G
Timeframe : Fall 1260
The challenge this week at write_imagine is a flower, so 2 birds with one stone, here's an itty bitty piece of Ski and Lyssa.
With a flick of her fingers, Lyssa sent a shower of blue petals to the floor. From her perch on the bed, Ilya cast a scowl in her direction.
“There will be none left if you continue so,” Ilya said, returning her attention to weaving the laces of Ski’s dress into an intricate mesh across her back.
Ski pulled one of the blooms from the vase and wound its stem through the circlet that held its fellows.
Lyssa snatched another to twirl between her fingers as she braced her back against the wall. “This is foolish,” she said, watching her sister calmly thread yet another flower into the chain.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Ski didn’t much look like a bride, nor was she quite her usual self. A fort was no place to find a wedding dress, not that such a private ceremony called for the typical grandeur that would have been expected at court. With a few minor alterations, an old gown had been made to serve the purpose. Ski never looked anything but at ease in such finery, but today there was an air above and beyond her natural beauty. The woman all but glowed.
“Not doing this would be foolish,” Ski said. Lyssa yanked a petal from the flower and tossed it down to be ground under her boot with the rest, wondering when she had become the voice of reason.
“What do you plan on telling Mother?” she asked. Ski ceased her work as the room lapsed into silence. Even Ilya paused to look between the two. “You do plan on telling her, don't you?”
Ski selected another flower for her collection. Her expression turned thoughtful, but still the glow remained. “When this is over.”
“She’s going to kill you.” Another petal hit the floor.
The corner of Ski’s mouth rose. “Come tomorrow there will be little she can say.”
Lyssa paused, her thumb and finger clamped on the last petal. “She could disown you. Then I’ll kill you,” she said. “The last thing I want is your position.”
“Then be grateful that the last thing Mother wants is for you to have it. If for no other reason than that, she will have to accept this.”
She tossed the bare stem aside and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s still foolish.”
Rating : G
Timeframe : Fall 1260
The challenge this week at write_imagine is a flower, so 2 birds with one stone, here's an itty bitty piece of Ski and Lyssa.
With a flick of her fingers, Lyssa sent a shower of blue petals to the floor. From her perch on the bed, Ilya cast a scowl in her direction.
“There will be none left if you continue so,” Ilya said, returning her attention to weaving the laces of Ski’s dress into an intricate mesh across her back.
Ski pulled one of the blooms from the vase and wound its stem through the circlet that held its fellows.
Lyssa snatched another to twirl between her fingers as she braced her back against the wall. “This is foolish,” she said, watching her sister calmly thread yet another flower into the chain.
She wasn’t quite sure what to make of her. Ski didn’t much look like a bride, nor was she quite her usual self. A fort was no place to find a wedding dress, not that such a private ceremony called for the typical grandeur that would have been expected at court. With a few minor alterations, an old gown had been made to serve the purpose. Ski never looked anything but at ease in such finery, but today there was an air above and beyond her natural beauty. The woman all but glowed.
“Not doing this would be foolish,” Ski said. Lyssa yanked a petal from the flower and tossed it down to be ground under her boot with the rest, wondering when she had become the voice of reason.
“What do you plan on telling Mother?” she asked. Ski ceased her work as the room lapsed into silence. Even Ilya paused to look between the two. “You do plan on telling her, don't you?”
Ski selected another flower for her collection. Her expression turned thoughtful, but still the glow remained. “When this is over.”
“She’s going to kill you.” Another petal hit the floor.
The corner of Ski’s mouth rose. “Come tomorrow there will be little she can say.”
Lyssa paused, her thumb and finger clamped on the last petal. “She could disown you. Then I’ll kill you,” she said. “The last thing I want is your position.”
“Then be grateful that the last thing Mother wants is for you to have it. If for no other reason than that, she will have to accept this.”
She tossed the bare stem aside and folded her arms across her chest. “It’s still foolish.”