Archive | September 28, 2011

Sunday night with worries

New flash series! I’m going to write one flash for every Icon I have, over 4 LJ accounts, 1 DW, and a whole bunch of not-currently-in-use, until I get bored or run out of icons.

Today’s icon:

Addergoole, Aelgifu.

Icon & Art by Djinni

Directly after Sunday Night, Content (LJ)

“…As long as you make babies.”

Ayla chewed her lip and stared at her brother. Babies. He was right, she knew; everything she’d talked about with Io and Shahin, even Emrys, had told her that. But…

“It’s okay, beloved,” Io murmured. “This place is top of the line with reproductive technology. There’s no need to do it the old-fashioned way.”

“But I’ll still have to find someone willing to donate the, ah, the necessary.” And handle nine months of pregnancy, twice, but she didn’t want to bring that part up right now. “And Yngvi will need a girl, or two.”

“I doubt you’ll have a problem. The issue is going to be finding someone whose child you want to raise, who doesn’t already have his two.” Ioanna’s lips curled in amusement. “Luckily, cy’Luca are generally too nice for their own good.”

Knowing what Tolly had done, Ayla wasn’t so sure about that, but that was another thing she didn’t want to bring up. Instead, she asked. “Your first…?”

“By Smitty,” Ioanna smiled. “I might like girls a lot, but I like boys, too, on occasion. And Smitty is a nice guy.”

“Oh.” She’d been dressed as a boy when she first met Io, but she’d thought… she didn’t really know what she’d thought, actually. “Smitty?”

“He’s a nice guy,” Io repeated, “with an unfortunate habit of being very much in love with the wrong women. Not me,” she clarified, “although he does seem to love Cecy, our daughter.”

“Cecy.” Ayla smiled faintly. “Could I meet her?”

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Furlough, (Rin and) Girey

A short drabble of Girey, in Osslund, after:
In Context (available in Tales for the Sugar Cat), Unexpected Hello (LJ, and Not. Jealous. (LJ)



It was easy for Karak to say; he was on his third cup of the bitter, greenish drink that the Callanthe drank as a cocktail. Girey had swallowed one small glass by not breathing, but had declined a second, his tongue still burning from the first.

“No, I mean it.” Karak set his glass down, and shook his head warningly. “You’re not in battle anymore, soldier. Let it go.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Girey answered stiffly. Where had Rin and Noni gotten to? There had been a lot of laughing and whispering, and they’d headed upstairs, leaving him shackled to the chair with this one-legged veteran for company.

“You’re still on duty. Rin’s been hauling you across the country for how long, and you’ve still got your back stiff, you’re still acting like you’re on patrol. Relax. You’ve been mustered out.”

“I was captured,” he countered.

“And, not to be rude, but your country was defeated. You can’t lead a noble resistance from the back of your captor’s goat, and, besides, you’re not going to stab her in the back.”

“You seem awfully sure about that.” Never mind that Girey was pretty sure he was right.

“I’m pretty sure about people, that’s all. If she continues to treat you right, you’ll continue to be loyal to her.”

“That’s an exaggeration.” He was not “loyal” to the enemy!

“All right, all right. Another drink?”

“No.” Training kicked in, covering over his sullenness. “No, thank you. I’ve had enough.” And so had the other man, but that wasn’t his place to say.

“Hardly. I could build a table with you, you’re so stiff. So you’re not loyal to her, but you’re not going to stab her. You can’t really escape. So relax. It may not be the rest time you were hoping for, but it’s a rest. You don’t have anything you have to do here.”

He studied his empty glass thoughtfully. “So,” he said, carefully, in Callanthe, “you’re suggesting I look at being taken prisoner as… a furlough?”

The veteran laughed. “You were a commissioned officer, all right. Nobility? Enlisted men know to take every break you get. Never know when another one might come.”

“You might have a point.” Girey leaned back in his seat, pondering Karak’s words. If the soldier had noticed, Rin had; if she thought he was still preparing for battle, she’d never let down her guard around him. Maybe it was time to relax.

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Tuesday, with strange fears

The weather has been a bit dismal, so yesterday T. finished pulling stuff out of the left half of the House’s eaves. Among the odder finds – porn, for instance, or very strange crocheted bottle covers over wine bottles full of sand – was a WWII era cot, still mostly intact, and a steamer trunk.

Once upon a time, I wrote a story where people, having bought a house, found a steamer trunk in the hidden passageways with a baby skeleton inside. I wrote it, and it still creeped me out. So having found a steamer trunk in the back of a semi-hidden eaves hideaway…. yeah, I made T open it first.

No skeletons. An old mouse-nest and some chewing damage, but no skeletons. I may have to refurbish it. *adds to list*


Links of the day:
I totally want this.
and I think I need to make this.

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