(no subject)
Apple Pie #6. Backyard
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1253
Word Count : 662
I want to go back and start filling in more of the early period with the knights. I have some plotty stuff in mind that I'd like to get to, and I'd like to work a bit more on the minor characters that were around in that time too.
“What are you doing?”
Rune blinked at the voice, but he didn’t move. He tried to keep his head straight, his eyes on the mound of overgrown dandelions at the base of the tree across the narrow yard and the bushy tail that swayed among them. Most importantly, he tightened his fists and held onto the heat that pulsed within his palms, despite the urge to turn and fling it as the door slammed shut and the squirrel shot up the tree.
“Focusing,” said Rune, through gritted teeth, as the animal chattered down at them from the boughs.
Farran stopped on the step beside him, arms folded, squinting up into the tree. “On the squirrels?” she said.
Rune unclenched his hands and let the magic go, slowly, like the breath that seeped between his jaws, allowing what refused to crawl back down his spine to seep into the air. He lifted his hand, loosened his fingers and shook off the last, tingling remnants. “They’re handy.”
“Is it working?“ said Farran, turning her squint and her frown on him.
He wished he had an answer for that, but all he could muster was a sigh, and he supposed, from the way her frown edged towards a sympathetic smile, that that was answer enough. “They don’t need healing,” he said, rubbing at one hand with the other. His fingers were stiff, his wrist ached, and he wondered how long he’d been holding it before she’d arrived. “And it’s not like I’m about to start hurting them just so I can practice.”
Her hands slid to her hips and she shook her head at the squirrel still scolding them from above. “So you are sitting here and simply staring at them for hours on end?”
Rune’s eyes fell to the boots on the stone beside him as his hand found the back of his neck. “Look,” he said, his fingers worming their way under his collar, “Don’t tell Masakari. Alright? I really don’t want her cutting herself again, and I think this just might work…”
There was a swish of green fabric as her skirts dipped down over her boots and then Farran was squatting beside him, that sympathetic look from before now level with his eyes. “I have no intention of telling her,” she said. “I believe the gods have their own plans where you are concerned.”
“I wish those plans were a bit clearer sometimes.”
The woman’s frown quickly returned. “You’ve already got more of a hand than the rest of us ever will.”
Rune blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You’re still jealous, aren’t you? You really don’t have to be.”
“Jealous? No. Confused, perhaps.” She straightened herself and brushed the wrinkles from her skirts. “It is her will, not mine. I should leave you to your focusing.”
Rune couldn’t tell if the force she put on the word was meant to be mocking and thought better than to say anything about it. He stretched one long, bony leg out from the step and ground his heel into the dirt. “You know,” he said, wiggling his foot against the leaves of yet another of the ratty dandelions that spotted the yard and hoping it would be that simple to change the subject, “it would be a lot easier if I didn’t have the urge to start pulling weeds every time I look around.”
Apparently it was that simple, because Farran was laughing. “That,” she said, reaching for the door, “I think I can help you with. It is getting late, but I will meet you out here tomorrow. With a shovel.”
Rune nodded his approval and Farran went back into the house. It was late, but not too late, he supposed. He scaned the branches, deciding that trimming them was another task that needed seeing to, and spotted the squirrel, now nestled in a fork. Fists coiled and jaw set, he found and pulled the trace of magic up along his spine.
Story : knights
Rating : G
Timeframe : 1253
Word Count : 662
I want to go back and start filling in more of the early period with the knights. I have some plotty stuff in mind that I'd like to get to, and I'd like to work a bit more on the minor characters that were around in that time too.
“What are you doing?”
Rune blinked at the voice, but he didn’t move. He tried to keep his head straight, his eyes on the mound of overgrown dandelions at the base of the tree across the narrow yard and the bushy tail that swayed among them. Most importantly, he tightened his fists and held onto the heat that pulsed within his palms, despite the urge to turn and fling it as the door slammed shut and the squirrel shot up the tree.
“Focusing,” said Rune, through gritted teeth, as the animal chattered down at them from the boughs.
Farran stopped on the step beside him, arms folded, squinting up into the tree. “On the squirrels?” she said.
Rune unclenched his hands and let the magic go, slowly, like the breath that seeped between his jaws, allowing what refused to crawl back down his spine to seep into the air. He lifted his hand, loosened his fingers and shook off the last, tingling remnants. “They’re handy.”
“Is it working?“ said Farran, turning her squint and her frown on him.
He wished he had an answer for that, but all he could muster was a sigh, and he supposed, from the way her frown edged towards a sympathetic smile, that that was answer enough. “They don’t need healing,” he said, rubbing at one hand with the other. His fingers were stiff, his wrist ached, and he wondered how long he’d been holding it before she’d arrived. “And it’s not like I’m about to start hurting them just so I can practice.”
Her hands slid to her hips and she shook her head at the squirrel still scolding them from above. “So you are sitting here and simply staring at them for hours on end?”
Rune’s eyes fell to the boots on the stone beside him as his hand found the back of his neck. “Look,” he said, his fingers worming their way under his collar, “Don’t tell Masakari. Alright? I really don’t want her cutting herself again, and I think this just might work…”
There was a swish of green fabric as her skirts dipped down over her boots and then Farran was squatting beside him, that sympathetic look from before now level with his eyes. “I have no intention of telling her,” she said. “I believe the gods have their own plans where you are concerned.”
“I wish those plans were a bit clearer sometimes.”
The woman’s frown quickly returned. “You’ve already got more of a hand than the rest of us ever will.”
Rune blinked. He hadn’t been expecting that. “You’re still jealous, aren’t you? You really don’t have to be.”
“Jealous? No. Confused, perhaps.” She straightened herself and brushed the wrinkles from her skirts. “It is her will, not mine. I should leave you to your focusing.”
Rune couldn’t tell if the force she put on the word was meant to be mocking and thought better than to say anything about it. He stretched one long, bony leg out from the step and ground his heel into the dirt. “You know,” he said, wiggling his foot against the leaves of yet another of the ratty dandelions that spotted the yard and hoping it would be that simple to change the subject, “it would be a lot easier if I didn’t have the urge to start pulling weeds every time I look around.”
Apparently it was that simple, because Farran was laughing. “That,” she said, reaching for the door, “I think I can help you with. It is getting late, but I will meet you out here tomorrow. With a shovel.”
Rune nodded his approval and Farran went back into the house. It was late, but not too late, he supposed. He scaned the branches, deciding that trimming them was another task that needed seeing to, and spotted the squirrel, now nestled in a fork. Fists coiled and jaw set, he found and pulled the trace of magic up along his spine.