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femslashficlets2015-08-06 05:39 am
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2015-08-06 05:39 am
Out of Orbit (Sappho 6)
Title: Out of Orbit
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Tiki/Say'ri
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #6 - stars around the beautiful moon
Word Count: 589
Summary: At a Ylissean ball, Say'ri stands out. Tiki stands out more.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Tiki/Say'ri
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #6 - stars around the beautiful moon
Word Count: 589
Summary: At a Ylissean ball, Say'ri stands out. Tiki stands out more.
stars around the beautiful moon
hide back their luminous form
whenever all full she shines
on the earth
silvery
With the war done, Say’ri is not above admiring the women attending the ball. Sumia’s simple lavender dress suits her quite elegantly, two left feet or not. Miriel looks sharper than usual in her breeches and tunic, making quite a pair alongside the armored Sully, who’s been relegated to the wall after nearly breaking Maribelle’s nose with her neckpiece. Say’ri overhears Miriel tell her that the spot is ideal for observation, anyway. Maribelle, for her part, sparkles in a dozen different places, and as the evening passes it seems half of her jewelry passes to Lissa and the rest to Olivia and other girls, yet Maribelle loses none of her shine.
Like Miriel, Say’ri stays off to the side where she can take in all of this. She would like to join in the dancing, as it’s not so different from swordplay, with the only casualties being Cordelia’s crushed toes. However, the dancing in Ylisse’s castle is by and large not a style she’s familiar with, so she’s forced into the role of diplomatic guest, waiting for her own lady to appear.
Say’ri smoothes out her kimono, wishing Ylissean dresses better hid the angles of her body so that she could look less out of place. It was Tiki who requested they enter separately. She had work to do as the Voice before she could engage in revelry, and she did not want Say’ri to miss out, especially given the event’s underlying political importance. For a foreign princess to be tardy would be seen as a snub. So Say’ri has been talking politely to dignitaries who stare a bit too long all evening, the wordplay its own sort of dance, and trying not to think about how she would have liked to instead get in a bit of sword practice, learned the dance steps, and then swept in with Tiki on her arm.
She’s sampling a fruity dark wine that Lucina offered her when Tiki enters. Others are attending her, and normally Say’ri would have appraised them, but she’s not seen Tiki in this ensemble, and she can only stare. Tiki’s collar fans out like silvery feathers. Fixed at her waist with a red sash, the dress trails down the backs of her legs to kiss the ground. Its material is as a pearl: white or silvery until the light catches it, making it appear pink or blue. Her shoulders are bare, untouched by the hair that’s pinned up in an Ylissean style of braids. She clasps her hands in front of her, the red accents in her white gloves matching her painted lips.
All of the women on the floor seem to dull in comparison, through no fault of their own. Demanding attention next to a goddess is a hopeless feat.
Tiki greets the Ylissean royals briefly before making a beeline for Say’ri, her boots clacking against the stone. They exchange halting pleasantries, and then Tiki holds out a hand and steals Say’ri’s line.
Say’ri’s tongue is heavy. All will look at her, with a divine being in her arms. This would be just as well in Chon’sin, or perhaps any training grounds, but…
“My lady,” she whispers, “the steps here—I don’t…”
Tiki smiles, her earbobs swaying as she shakes her head. “Nor do I. But it looks fun, doesn’t it?”
And with the war done, showing Tiki a good time is as high a motivation as any, so soon Tiki is soaking in all the light on the dance floor, and Say’ri basks in the glow.
hide back their luminous form
whenever all full she shines
on the earth
silvery
With the war done, Say’ri is not above admiring the women attending the ball. Sumia’s simple lavender dress suits her quite elegantly, two left feet or not. Miriel looks sharper than usual in her breeches and tunic, making quite a pair alongside the armored Sully, who’s been relegated to the wall after nearly breaking Maribelle’s nose with her neckpiece. Say’ri overhears Miriel tell her that the spot is ideal for observation, anyway. Maribelle, for her part, sparkles in a dozen different places, and as the evening passes it seems half of her jewelry passes to Lissa and the rest to Olivia and other girls, yet Maribelle loses none of her shine.
Like Miriel, Say’ri stays off to the side where she can take in all of this. She would like to join in the dancing, as it’s not so different from swordplay, with the only casualties being Cordelia’s crushed toes. However, the dancing in Ylisse’s castle is by and large not a style she’s familiar with, so she’s forced into the role of diplomatic guest, waiting for her own lady to appear.
Say’ri smoothes out her kimono, wishing Ylissean dresses better hid the angles of her body so that she could look less out of place. It was Tiki who requested they enter separately. She had work to do as the Voice before she could engage in revelry, and she did not want Say’ri to miss out, especially given the event’s underlying political importance. For a foreign princess to be tardy would be seen as a snub. So Say’ri has been talking politely to dignitaries who stare a bit too long all evening, the wordplay its own sort of dance, and trying not to think about how she would have liked to instead get in a bit of sword practice, learned the dance steps, and then swept in with Tiki on her arm.
She’s sampling a fruity dark wine that Lucina offered her when Tiki enters. Others are attending her, and normally Say’ri would have appraised them, but she’s not seen Tiki in this ensemble, and she can only stare. Tiki’s collar fans out like silvery feathers. Fixed at her waist with a red sash, the dress trails down the backs of her legs to kiss the ground. Its material is as a pearl: white or silvery until the light catches it, making it appear pink or blue. Her shoulders are bare, untouched by the hair that’s pinned up in an Ylissean style of braids. She clasps her hands in front of her, the red accents in her white gloves matching her painted lips.
All of the women on the floor seem to dull in comparison, through no fault of their own. Demanding attention next to a goddess is a hopeless feat.
Tiki greets the Ylissean royals briefly before making a beeline for Say’ri, her boots clacking against the stone. They exchange halting pleasantries, and then Tiki holds out a hand and steals Say’ri’s line.
Say’ri’s tongue is heavy. All will look at her, with a divine being in her arms. This would be just as well in Chon’sin, or perhaps any training grounds, but…
“My lady,” she whispers, “the steps here—I don’t…”
Tiki smiles, her earbobs swaying as she shakes her head. “Nor do I. But it looks fun, doesn’t it?”
And with the war done, showing Tiki a good time is as high a motivation as any, so soon Tiki is soaking in all the light on the dance floor, and Say’ri basks in the glow.