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femslashficlets2015-08-24 07:40 am
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2015-08-24 07:40 am
#021 - Late and Sappho 11
Title: Despite Better Judgment
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Titania/Almedha
Rating: PG
Prompt: #21 - late
Word Count: 731
Summary: Titania teaches Almedha to wield an axe. Part of a series with Toil and Trouble and A Different Home.
Title: An Empty Chest
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Titania/Almedha
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #11 - I simply want to be dead.
Word Count: 576
Summary: Titania connects the pieces to an incomplete puzzle. Part of the above series.
I simply want to be dead.
Weeping she left me
with many tears and said this:
Oh how badly things have turned out for us.
For a fortnight Almedha is a cooperative guest. She accepts Titania’s training, however basic, and she keeps to the edges of the company’s affairs, spending much of the day in her room. The others tiptoe around her, whispering, and Titania cannot tell them that Almedha’s ears can pick up every word.
Though Titania means to juggle her responsibilities to her company with those to her guest, she finds herself staying up later and later to finish everything. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to if Soren were there. She still finds herself avoiding shelves that he was particular about organizing, or realizing she’s neglected to document a job in the ledgers under the assumption he’ll do it. The older books are filled with his neat scrawl. An inkwell that he was always moving to the left of the desk and her to the right now collects a ring of dust.
After years in and out of this fort, Titania could navigate it blindfolded, but she carries a lantern through the hall regardless. Her mind is off in faraway forests, her eyes making little use of the light until she hears a groan. It’s not unusual for the mercenaries to call out from nightmares or aches, but the voice isn’t theirs. Rounding the corner, Titania sucks in a breath when she sees that the door to Soren’s old room is ajar.
Almedha lays across the cot, hair and legs and gown splayed. One of the gown’s seams has split, the thread showing no fraying as if forcefully torn.
Titania prepares a lecture about privacy, about being a courteous guest—but tearstains streak Almedha’s cheeks, her hair matted in a semi-circle around the lightning bolt striking across her forehead, and she tilts her chin to peer at Titania with tired red eyes, the lids puffy around them…and Titania just knows, everything she could only delicately suspect.
He never really let me mother him she has the urge to say, as if in disclaimer. It’s an inappropriate thing to voice by any measure, so instead she steps into the room even as her legs tense, almost tripping over a notch in the floor she never got a chance to anticipate, and perches beside Almedha on the bed. She doubts Almedha wants to be seen in this state, but it seems just as invasive to study the room, though it’s furnished only with a bare desk and an empty chest with a broken lock. Its top hangs off its hinges.
“I thought…there would be something here,” Almedha says, closing her eyes.
“He had few belongings,” Titania says gently, though she suspects it’s not what Almedha means. “He never liked keeping unnecessary things.”
Receiving no response, Titania follows impulse and strokes Almedha’s hair as she once might have Elena’s or a younger Mist’s, unable to keep from the indulgent thought that she likes its relative dryness. Almedha doesn’t respond to the touch.
“Would you like some tea?” Titania asks, restless to provide.
“I want to wallow a while. Leave me.”
Almedha’s voice is deep and cracked, like the ground around the plateaus Titania saw but once in Goldoa. Titania rises, not moving to exit. Motherhood binds her to this woman who not long ago seemed incomprehensible.
“Did you hear me?” Almedha asks.
“I’ll get a needle and thread. Call if there’s anything else I can do.” Again Titania receives no response, and this time she leaves. A groan follows her down the hall.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Titania/Almedha
Rating: PG
Prompt: #21 - late
Word Count: 731
Summary: Titania teaches Almedha to wield an axe. Part of a series with Toil and Trouble and A Different Home.
Before breakfast ends, Titania offers to teach Almedha to wield a weapon. She cites the interest Almedha has shown in Titania’s training, though really she wants to give Almedha an excuse to stay, as she has the hunch Almedha is looking for one.
“It would help you protect yourself,” she makes the mistake of adding. Almedha’s eyes flash, and she wastes no time in eating the sausage a neighboring farmer gave the company in gratitude.
On the way to the supply shed Almedha stops in front of a tree. After circling it, she bends at the knees and wraps her arms around it. Before Titania can ask, Almedha heaves the tree upward until its thickest roots hang above the ground, dirt shaken from them. The contortions of her face smooth once she tosses the trunk aside, twigs cracking and leaves crunching as it smacks the ground. Titania can only stare.
“You were saying before?” Almedha asks, brushing her hands. “About me protecting myself,” she clarifies when Titania begs her pardon.
“Ah,” Titania says. “Yes, forgive me. I’ll be sure to call on you if we’ve ever need for a battering ram.” The corners of her lips turn up, and Almedha mirrors her.
“Oh, I’ve seen a whole squadron of men work together to break into a fort, it’s just silly.” Almedha rotates her wrists, flexing long fingers. “I may have lost much, but I have this.” Titania has the grace to lower her chin.
In the supply shed, Almedha closes her eyes and breathes deeply. “The smell of iron…it brings up such mixed feelings.”
“It’s always calmed me, despite perhaps my better judgment,” Titania admits. The scent brings to mind war, but also armor, a favorite axe, a pot for stew.
Almedha, as Titania suspected she would, chooses to learn the axe; Titania knows enough for rudimentary mentoring in the sword, bow, or lance, but Almedha wrinkles her nose at the first option and dismisses the rest. “I’m not opposed to a well-placed dagger or slip of poison, but if brute force is one’s aim, then the bigger the better,” she says. When Titania has her practice the basics with a training axe rather than her battleaxe, she pouts, petulance Titania might have expected from Sanaki.
“I’m sorry, but I must follow protocol as I would for any trainee, and that includes safety first—not that this couldn’t make a mark if wielded improperly.” Titania claps the handle against her palm.
“I once juggled daggers while intoxicated; I’m cursed with longevity,” Almedha drawls. Titania wishes she could tell when Almedha is joking.
“I should have liked to see that.” Though amused, Titania maintains a steady demeanor as she leads them outside and starts Almedha chopping up the tree she uprooted. Only years spent in the company she’s kept prevents Titania from feeling dissonance at ordering a noblewoman to do chores. Almedha makes quick work of the task, letting Titania correct her grip and stance to form the needed base. To Almedha’s chagrin, they’re still practicing these things when the sun drops behind the trees.
“It’s rather late in life for me to be learning this,” she says, leaning against the woodpile. Though she’d never ask, Titania wonders exactly how long a life that is.
“Nonsense. If you’ve the strength to wield an axe, it’s not too late.”
“I didn’t say too late—and I believe we’ve established that.” Almedha’s nose twitches, her eye twinkling. “In any case, thank you, Dame Titania. I’m sure you have your own duties to be attending to.”
Titania inclines her head, a bit embarrassed to be surprised at the consideration. “I’ll attend to them later,” she says. “It’s my pleasure.”
“If it’s pleasure you’re after, I really can offer much more than this.” Almedha’s arm dangles over the wood, her smile devilish, and Titania’s wish from before intensifies.
“That’s…” When the fireflies came out, Titania doesn’t know, but they’re swarming now in clouds of flashing light. Humidity traps dirt and metal around her, heady scents that for once aren’t calming. A howling laugh worthy of Nailah cuts through.
“You can’t be so baffled! What a knight you still are. I grow weary—I’m retiring for the night.”
Slinging the axe over her shoulder, Almedha glides away. Titania shakes her head. She was the one who invited trouble into her life, so she can hardly complain.
“It would help you protect yourself,” she makes the mistake of adding. Almedha’s eyes flash, and she wastes no time in eating the sausage a neighboring farmer gave the company in gratitude.
On the way to the supply shed Almedha stops in front of a tree. After circling it, she bends at the knees and wraps her arms around it. Before Titania can ask, Almedha heaves the tree upward until its thickest roots hang above the ground, dirt shaken from them. The contortions of her face smooth once she tosses the trunk aside, twigs cracking and leaves crunching as it smacks the ground. Titania can only stare.
“You were saying before?” Almedha asks, brushing her hands. “About me protecting myself,” she clarifies when Titania begs her pardon.
“Ah,” Titania says. “Yes, forgive me. I’ll be sure to call on you if we’ve ever need for a battering ram.” The corners of her lips turn up, and Almedha mirrors her.
“Oh, I’ve seen a whole squadron of men work together to break into a fort, it’s just silly.” Almedha rotates her wrists, flexing long fingers. “I may have lost much, but I have this.” Titania has the grace to lower her chin.
xxxxxxx
In the supply shed, Almedha closes her eyes and breathes deeply. “The smell of iron…it brings up such mixed feelings.”
“It’s always calmed me, despite perhaps my better judgment,” Titania admits. The scent brings to mind war, but also armor, a favorite axe, a pot for stew.
Almedha, as Titania suspected she would, chooses to learn the axe; Titania knows enough for rudimentary mentoring in the sword, bow, or lance, but Almedha wrinkles her nose at the first option and dismisses the rest. “I’m not opposed to a well-placed dagger or slip of poison, but if brute force is one’s aim, then the bigger the better,” she says. When Titania has her practice the basics with a training axe rather than her battleaxe, she pouts, petulance Titania might have expected from Sanaki.
“I’m sorry, but I must follow protocol as I would for any trainee, and that includes safety first—not that this couldn’t make a mark if wielded improperly.” Titania claps the handle against her palm.
“I once juggled daggers while intoxicated; I’m cursed with longevity,” Almedha drawls. Titania wishes she could tell when Almedha is joking.
“I should have liked to see that.” Though amused, Titania maintains a steady demeanor as she leads them outside and starts Almedha chopping up the tree she uprooted. Only years spent in the company she’s kept prevents Titania from feeling dissonance at ordering a noblewoman to do chores. Almedha makes quick work of the task, letting Titania correct her grip and stance to form the needed base. To Almedha’s chagrin, they’re still practicing these things when the sun drops behind the trees.
“It’s rather late in life for me to be learning this,” she says, leaning against the woodpile. Though she’d never ask, Titania wonders exactly how long a life that is.
“Nonsense. If you’ve the strength to wield an axe, it’s not too late.”
“I didn’t say too late—and I believe we’ve established that.” Almedha’s nose twitches, her eye twinkling. “In any case, thank you, Dame Titania. I’m sure you have your own duties to be attending to.”
Titania inclines her head, a bit embarrassed to be surprised at the consideration. “I’ll attend to them later,” she says. “It’s my pleasure.”
“If it’s pleasure you’re after, I really can offer much more than this.” Almedha’s arm dangles over the wood, her smile devilish, and Titania’s wish from before intensifies.
“That’s…” When the fireflies came out, Titania doesn’t know, but they’re swarming now in clouds of flashing light. Humidity traps dirt and metal around her, heady scents that for once aren’t calming. A howling laugh worthy of Nailah cuts through.
“You can’t be so baffled! What a knight you still are. I grow weary—I’m retiring for the night.”
Slinging the axe over her shoulder, Almedha glides away. Titania shakes her head. She was the one who invited trouble into her life, so she can hardly complain.
Title: An Empty Chest
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Titania/Almedha
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #11 - I simply want to be dead.
Word Count: 576
Summary: Titania connects the pieces to an incomplete puzzle. Part of the above series.
I simply want to be dead.
Weeping she left me
with many tears and said this:
Oh how badly things have turned out for us.
For a fortnight Almedha is a cooperative guest. She accepts Titania’s training, however basic, and she keeps to the edges of the company’s affairs, spending much of the day in her room. The others tiptoe around her, whispering, and Titania cannot tell them that Almedha’s ears can pick up every word.
Though Titania means to juggle her responsibilities to her company with those to her guest, she finds herself staying up later and later to finish everything. Perhaps she wouldn’t need to if Soren were there. She still finds herself avoiding shelves that he was particular about organizing, or realizing she’s neglected to document a job in the ledgers under the assumption he’ll do it. The older books are filled with his neat scrawl. An inkwell that he was always moving to the left of the desk and her to the right now collects a ring of dust.
After years in and out of this fort, Titania could navigate it blindfolded, but she carries a lantern through the hall regardless. Her mind is off in faraway forests, her eyes making little use of the light until she hears a groan. It’s not unusual for the mercenaries to call out from nightmares or aches, but the voice isn’t theirs. Rounding the corner, Titania sucks in a breath when she sees that the door to Soren’s old room is ajar.
Almedha lays across the cot, hair and legs and gown splayed. One of the gown’s seams has split, the thread showing no fraying as if forcefully torn.
Titania prepares a lecture about privacy, about being a courteous guest—but tearstains streak Almedha’s cheeks, her hair matted in a semi-circle around the lightning bolt striking across her forehead, and she tilts her chin to peer at Titania with tired red eyes, the lids puffy around them…and Titania just knows, everything she could only delicately suspect.
He never really let me mother him she has the urge to say, as if in disclaimer. It’s an inappropriate thing to voice by any measure, so instead she steps into the room even as her legs tense, almost tripping over a notch in the floor she never got a chance to anticipate, and perches beside Almedha on the bed. She doubts Almedha wants to be seen in this state, but it seems just as invasive to study the room, though it’s furnished only with a bare desk and an empty chest with a broken lock. Its top hangs off its hinges.
“I thought…there would be something here,” Almedha says, closing her eyes.
“He had few belongings,” Titania says gently, though she suspects it’s not what Almedha means. “He never liked keeping unnecessary things.”
Receiving no response, Titania follows impulse and strokes Almedha’s hair as she once might have Elena’s or a younger Mist’s, unable to keep from the indulgent thought that she likes its relative dryness. Almedha doesn’t respond to the touch.
“Would you like some tea?” Titania asks, restless to provide.
“I want to wallow a while. Leave me.”
Almedha’s voice is deep and cracked, like the ground around the plateaus Titania saw but once in Goldoa. Titania rises, not moving to exit. Motherhood binds her to this woman who not long ago seemed incomprehensible.
“Did you hear me?” Almedha asks.
“I’ll get a needle and thread. Call if there’s anything else I can do.” Again Titania receives no response, and this time she leaves. A groan follows her down the hall.