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femslashficlets2016-01-03 09:18 pm
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2016-01-03 09:18 pm
Molting (Sappho #8)
Title: Molting
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Elincia/Leanne
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #8 - their heart grew cold
Word Count: 386
Summary: Leanne can read a heart's limits.
their heart grew cold
they let their wings down
One of Leanne’s feathers floats to the floor. Elincia’s knees are already bent; they drop now to the stone as she picks up the feather, cradling it in her palms. Grief emanates from her, confusing Leanne. She molts regularly enough, feathers that are of little value to anyone except Begnion’s underground market.
“Forgive me,” Elincia says. Her fingertips had grazed the inner bend of Leanne’s wing when the loose feather dislodged. “I just wanted to touch one. They look so soft…”
“Will fallen anyway,” Leanne assures her—then, realizing that her poor grasp of modern tenses might confuse the message, she leans forward and curls a wing around Elincia. “Touch.”
Still kneeling, Elincia rests her head against Leanne’s stomach instead. She chuckles a little, though Leanne feels no mirth from her. “I’m leaning on you more and more, it seems,” Elincia says. “After fighting a goddess, mopping up the aftermath of a rebellion shouldn’t wear so, should it?”
She hides it well enough during the day—to all who don’t have Leanne’s powers, at least—but Leanne still isn’t surprised by Elincia’s exhaustion. Many of the friends who’ve helped her are elsewhere, watching over corners of Crimea that she can rarely attend to or aiding countries that beg Elincia’s help with recovering from their more recent wars. To Leanne, one or three years makes little difference. Crimea is as wounded as anyone.
She understands Elincia’s heart more than she understands politics, however, and perhaps that’s why in the evenings Elincia can undo her bun and tuck herself under Leanne’s chin. For all Elincia works, she never seems to feel in these moments that the day’s efforts were enough. After untangling herself from Leanne she’ll try to return to her desk while Leanne steers her to bed, a clash of stubborn wills that only ends when one or more of them tires.
Tonight, Elincia does not rise. “My heart can only bend in so many directions,” she admits. “I know other countries suffer, but my people need my strength.”
Leanne knows by now that she’s not expected to answer. In her language, she sings a short verse:
Let down your wings;
You’ve flown far enough.
To translate she wraps herself around Elincia, who responds by curling into her, raising a tentative hand to stroke her feathers.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn
Pairing: Elincia/Leanne
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #8 - their heart grew cold
Word Count: 386
Summary: Leanne can read a heart's limits.
their heart grew cold
they let their wings down
One of Leanne’s feathers floats to the floor. Elincia’s knees are already bent; they drop now to the stone as she picks up the feather, cradling it in her palms. Grief emanates from her, confusing Leanne. She molts regularly enough, feathers that are of little value to anyone except Begnion’s underground market.
“Forgive me,” Elincia says. Her fingertips had grazed the inner bend of Leanne’s wing when the loose feather dislodged. “I just wanted to touch one. They look so soft…”
“Will fallen anyway,” Leanne assures her—then, realizing that her poor grasp of modern tenses might confuse the message, she leans forward and curls a wing around Elincia. “Touch.”
Still kneeling, Elincia rests her head against Leanne’s stomach instead. She chuckles a little, though Leanne feels no mirth from her. “I’m leaning on you more and more, it seems,” Elincia says. “After fighting a goddess, mopping up the aftermath of a rebellion shouldn’t wear so, should it?”
She hides it well enough during the day—to all who don’t have Leanne’s powers, at least—but Leanne still isn’t surprised by Elincia’s exhaustion. Many of the friends who’ve helped her are elsewhere, watching over corners of Crimea that she can rarely attend to or aiding countries that beg Elincia’s help with recovering from their more recent wars. To Leanne, one or three years makes little difference. Crimea is as wounded as anyone.
She understands Elincia’s heart more than she understands politics, however, and perhaps that’s why in the evenings Elincia can undo her bun and tuck herself under Leanne’s chin. For all Elincia works, she never seems to feel in these moments that the day’s efforts were enough. After untangling herself from Leanne she’ll try to return to her desk while Leanne steers her to bed, a clash of stubborn wills that only ends when one or more of them tires.
Tonight, Elincia does not rise. “My heart can only bend in so many directions,” she admits. “I know other countries suffer, but my people need my strength.”
Leanne knows by now that she’s not expected to answer. In her language, she sings a short verse:
Let down your wings;
You’ve flown far enough.
To translate she wraps herself around Elincia, who responds by curling into her, raising a tentative hand to stroke her feathers.