Rosage (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rosage) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
femslashficlets2017-08-30 04:01 pm
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2017-08-30 04:01 pm
Shakespeare 15
Title: Loves Me, Loves Me Not
Fandom: Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Pairing: Faye/Silque
Rating: G
Word Count: 351
Prompt: 15 The field's chief flower, sweet above compare - Venus and Adonis
Summary: Faye takes Silque to Ram's flower fields.
Note: Part 3 from here and here.
It’s hard not to skip ahead when the flowers dot the horizon, white and pink against the grass. Faye spins around to wave on Silque, who follows at an even gait. “Hurry up,” Faye calls before racing ahead. Already orange tinges the sky, and once night falls it will cover the sight.
Silque exclaims in delight at the blanket of flowers laid before them. Triumph thrums in Faye’s heart. “You work so hard,” Faye says. “And you spend your spare time in that drab cemetery. I thought you might like to see the prettier part of Ram.”
Silque hides a twinkle with a wink. “Yes, this is a sight for sore eyes.”
They settle in the grass, soft below Faye’s ankles, and Faye shows Silque how to make chains to circle their necks and wrist. “What a nice way to spend an evening,” Silque says. “Back on Novis, I used to go out early to see the morning glories bloom.”
“Morning glories?”
“Yes, one of the only flowers as blue as my hair. I’m afraid I stood out among Mila’s followers elsewise.” A dour shadow overtakes her, a remnant of Rigel that Faye does not know how to reach through. Like a cloud in the wind it passes. “Did you have any such rituals?”
Faye twirls a stem and chews at her lip. She would often pluck petals one by one. He loves me, he loves me not… No matter the result, she would cry out, then scurry to do it again.
She no longer needs to ask nature. She asked him, and he told her, with kind, pitying eyes.
“Faye?” A breeze disrupts Silque’s curtain of hair, brushing it against her jaw. Faye worries at a petal, silken between her thumb and forefinger, which releases its floral aroma. She remembers crushing them below her ears in case Alm would notice; Clair has since let her sample finer perfumes, not that such things really get at the heart.
“Oh, sorry. Not really,” Faye says, bringing the flower into her lap to pluck a petal.
She loves me, she loves me not...
Fandom: Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Pairing: Faye/Silque
Rating: G
Word Count: 351
Prompt: 15 The field's chief flower, sweet above compare - Venus and Adonis
Summary: Faye takes Silque to Ram's flower fields.
Note: Part 3 from here and here.
It’s hard not to skip ahead when the flowers dot the horizon, white and pink against the grass. Faye spins around to wave on Silque, who follows at an even gait. “Hurry up,” Faye calls before racing ahead. Already orange tinges the sky, and once night falls it will cover the sight.
Silque exclaims in delight at the blanket of flowers laid before them. Triumph thrums in Faye’s heart. “You work so hard,” Faye says. “And you spend your spare time in that drab cemetery. I thought you might like to see the prettier part of Ram.”
Silque hides a twinkle with a wink. “Yes, this is a sight for sore eyes.”
They settle in the grass, soft below Faye’s ankles, and Faye shows Silque how to make chains to circle their necks and wrist. “What a nice way to spend an evening,” Silque says. “Back on Novis, I used to go out early to see the morning glories bloom.”
“Morning glories?”
“Yes, one of the only flowers as blue as my hair. I’m afraid I stood out among Mila’s followers elsewise.” A dour shadow overtakes her, a remnant of Rigel that Faye does not know how to reach through. Like a cloud in the wind it passes. “Did you have any such rituals?”
Faye twirls a stem and chews at her lip. She would often pluck petals one by one. He loves me, he loves me not… No matter the result, she would cry out, then scurry to do it again.
She no longer needs to ask nature. She asked him, and he told her, with kind, pitying eyes.
“Faye?” A breeze disrupts Silque’s curtain of hair, brushing it against her jaw. Faye worries at a petal, silken between her thumb and forefinger, which releases its floral aroma. She remembers crushing them below her ears in case Alm would notice; Clair has since let her sample finer perfumes, not that such things really get at the heart.
“Oh, sorry. Not really,” Faye says, bringing the flower into her lap to pluck a petal.
She loves me, she loves me not...