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rainbowfic2012-05-06 02:08 pm
impactings) wrote in rainbowfic2012-05-06 02:08 pm
White Opal #8, Tyrian Purple #3, Alice Blue #23
Name: Thai
Title: the moon turns with the tide
Story: Blood Princess
Timeline: Asma is 17; Astor is Really Crazy Old you know what pretty much everyone is Crazy Old in this story
Colors: White Opal #8 - wandering, Tyrian Purple #3 - born of sea foam, Alice Blue #23 - it would be so nice if something made sense for a change
Supplies and Materials: Beading Wire (Surfer and Seagulls); Brush (validate)
Word Count: 656
Rating: G
Warnings: bad writing
Notes: Hi I need to be here more often sorry.............
The palm of Astor's hand was smooth and cool on her side, and Asma settled deeper into the nest of sheets and blankets. An errant feather drifted over her face, resting over her mouth. She blew at it absently, forgetting it when it didn't move.
The palm retreated. He traced her ribs with his fingertips, lazy and warm.
"Tell me about out there," she said, drowsily.
The wind was warm during the night, and the translucent curtains that surrounded them rippled slightly when it gusted. Asma felt a shifting in weight behind her as he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow. The other hand, the one mapping the lines of the princess's torso, slid back to curl around her hip.
Her forehead felt light, with the crown that was gone.
"What do you want to know?" His chin fit perfectly in the hollow between her throat and her shoulder. "There's a lot about out there."
"The sea," she said impulsively.
He was quiet. The curtains rippled again. Through the gold-and-blue-and-green she could see the outline of the window, the stars glittering between the stones. A longing stirred in her chest. Out there...
"It's blue," Astor offered, a smile in his tone. Asma shoved her shoulder back against his chest. He laughed with a choke in it. "Ouch, princess."
"Stop being a smartass."
She rolled over, twisting her legs with his. Their fingers fit so perfectly together she wondered how she didn't find this before.
He kissed her forehead. "Fine. The sea... it's very large, you know. It covers most of the world, and it's always changing. It's never the same in any two places. It's deeper than any mountain we know of yet, but there are mountains in it, and valleys - like a world below our world, except colder and darker, and wetter."
Asma shuddered. That much water -
"It's beautiful, though," Astor said softly, and his thumb ran soothingly along the line of hers. "It sparkles in the sunlight - there are fish that look like dragons, and people that look like fish, and dragons that look like people. It makes a sound that you can't stop listening to, like a heartbeat. It leaves the sand damp and birds cluster there; there are tide pools with shells and tiny fish, smaller than your hand, that dart away too fast for you to catch."
"But you can't drink the water, can you?"
"Too salty."
She tucked her head closer to his chest. His heartbeat didn't sound anything like the sound she'd heard in shells.
"You can drown in it, can't you?"
His voice was humoring. "You can drown in a bathtub, princess."
"Only if you try."
"If you try to drown in the sea, you'll succeed, don't worry."
It was a softer sound than the shell-noise. It spoke of home and harmony. The shell-sound rang in her ears for days and swept into her dreams, pulling her away into the water.
When she spoke, her voice was soft. She wasn't sure why. "I want to go, someday."
He was quiet for a very long time. His heartbeat had slowed; perhaps he was sleeping. Asma watched the shadows of the curtains flow across his skin, like snakes made of shadows, and was idly half-dreaming of black serpents curling around her face when he finally spoke again.
"Asma, you can't swim."
"I don't want to swim in the sea. I just want to see it. To see the pools and the fish." To make sure it's not just a story that you are telling me. To make sure there is more than home.
He stretched, sliding his arms from around her, pulling himself away from her across the bed. Then he curled back in, folding her against him, into him.
"Then we'll go," Astor told her, smoothing back her hair. "As soon as we can, the two of us. I'll take you to the sea."
Title: the moon turns with the tide
Story: Blood Princess
Timeline: Asma is 17; Astor is Really Crazy Old you know what pretty much everyone is Crazy Old in this story
Colors: White Opal #8 - wandering, Tyrian Purple #3 - born of sea foam, Alice Blue #23 - it would be so nice if something made sense for a change
Supplies and Materials: Beading Wire (Surfer and Seagulls); Brush (validate)
Word Count: 656
Rating: G
Warnings: bad writing
Notes: Hi I need to be here more often sorry.............
The palm of Astor's hand was smooth and cool on her side, and Asma settled deeper into the nest of sheets and blankets. An errant feather drifted over her face, resting over her mouth. She blew at it absently, forgetting it when it didn't move.
The palm retreated. He traced her ribs with his fingertips, lazy and warm.
"Tell me about out there," she said, drowsily.
The wind was warm during the night, and the translucent curtains that surrounded them rippled slightly when it gusted. Asma felt a shifting in weight behind her as he sat up, propping himself up on one elbow. The other hand, the one mapping the lines of the princess's torso, slid back to curl around her hip.
Her forehead felt light, with the crown that was gone.
"What do you want to know?" His chin fit perfectly in the hollow between her throat and her shoulder. "There's a lot about out there."
"The sea," she said impulsively.
He was quiet. The curtains rippled again. Through the gold-and-blue-and-green she could see the outline of the window, the stars glittering between the stones. A longing stirred in her chest. Out there...
"It's blue," Astor offered, a smile in his tone. Asma shoved her shoulder back against his chest. He laughed with a choke in it. "Ouch, princess."
"Stop being a smartass."
She rolled over, twisting her legs with his. Their fingers fit so perfectly together she wondered how she didn't find this before.
He kissed her forehead. "Fine. The sea... it's very large, you know. It covers most of the world, and it's always changing. It's never the same in any two places. It's deeper than any mountain we know of yet, but there are mountains in it, and valleys - like a world below our world, except colder and darker, and wetter."
Asma shuddered. That much water -
"It's beautiful, though," Astor said softly, and his thumb ran soothingly along the line of hers. "It sparkles in the sunlight - there are fish that look like dragons, and people that look like fish, and dragons that look like people. It makes a sound that you can't stop listening to, like a heartbeat. It leaves the sand damp and birds cluster there; there are tide pools with shells and tiny fish, smaller than your hand, that dart away too fast for you to catch."
"But you can't drink the water, can you?"
"Too salty."
She tucked her head closer to his chest. His heartbeat didn't sound anything like the sound she'd heard in shells.
"You can drown in it, can't you?"
His voice was humoring. "You can drown in a bathtub, princess."
"Only if you try."
"If you try to drown in the sea, you'll succeed, don't worry."
It was a softer sound than the shell-noise. It spoke of home and harmony. The shell-sound rang in her ears for days and swept into her dreams, pulling her away into the water.
When she spoke, her voice was soft. She wasn't sure why. "I want to go, someday."
He was quiet for a very long time. His heartbeat had slowed; perhaps he was sleeping. Asma watched the shadows of the curtains flow across his skin, like snakes made of shadows, and was idly half-dreaming of black serpents curling around her face when he finally spoke again.
"Asma, you can't swim."
"I don't want to swim in the sea. I just want to see it. To see the pools and the fish." To make sure it's not just a story that you are telling me. To make sure there is more than home.
He stretched, sliding his arms from around her, pulling himself away from her across the bed. Then he curled back in, folding her against him, into him.
"Then we'll go," Astor told her, smoothing back her hair. "As soon as we can, the two of us. I'll take you to the sea."