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femslashficlets2016-01-22 11:26 pm
rosage) wrote in femslashficlets2016-01-22 11:26 pm
Sappho 2, 3, and 16 (Fire Emblem: Awakening)
Title: Furtive
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sappho #2 -- Some men say an army of horse
Word Count: 330
Summary: Say'ri discovers Tiki's unusual hoard.
Some men say an army of horse and some men say an army on foot
and some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing
on the black earth. But I say it is
what you love.
Tiki lies curled just enough aloft that to Say’ri’s tired eyes she appears to be floating. Only fire and stars light the campsite, and inside the tent, Say’ri must kneel with her lantern to see the source of her lady’s flight: a small mound of stones piled under Tiki’s abdomen. She’s studied enough lore to recognize a hoard. Paintings depict dragons sitting on mountains of swords and silver, each coin smaller than a scale. T’would be difficult to harm an enemy with such tiny blades, Say’ri thinks as she bends lower over her sleeping lady.
Tiki half-yawns, her fangs concealed. After enough apologies, Say’ri has learned this means Tiki was already awake.
“Tis late enough that you should slumber,” Say’ri says. “I only wanted to ensure nothing distressed you.”
“I’m fine. You need rest more than I.”
Ignoring the hint, Say’ri furtively studies Tiki’s collection. Nothing about the stones seems precious; they wouldn’t be, if Tiki gathered them on the march. Yet a second glance reveals that no two are alike. Her curiosity wars with discretion. Tales of hoards usually end with attempted thieves being swallowed whole, idle trespassers escaping with gouged eyes.
She did not lead a rebellion without practicing calculated risk. “Perhaps you’d sleep more deeply on smoother ground.”
Tiki cracks open a lid, her iris half-yellow. Without rolling off she wriggles just enough to flip onto her back, her knees bent, and pulls her nightshirt up over her abdomen. Say’ri flinches away.
Tiki’s toes tap the ground, a sure demand for attention. When Say’ri looks, her light shines on a set of scales like built-in chainmail over Tiki’s ribs.
“Ah,” she breathes. Tiki tugs the shirt back down.
“Did that answer your question?”
In truth, Say’ri yearns to know just what attracts a goddess to little more than pebbles the soldiers trod on without thought. But calculating risks means retreating with eyes intact, so she leaves that mystery for another eve, or at least her midnight fancies.
Title: Bare Necessities
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sappho #3 -- ...among mortal women, know this
Word Count: 483
Summary: Say'ri's plan to comfort Tiki works in a way other than expected.
...among mortal women, know this
...from every care
...you could release me
In her second millennia, Tiki hears her own laugh for the first time. Childhood giggles, or a recent, statelier variation are another matter—it took little to delight her in her youth, and responding to lords’ banter is a matter of courtesy. But it turns out that when she bursts of mirth she rolls back and curls up, clutching a shaking chest, and emits such a shriek that she’s glad nobody else is nearby to investigate.
When Say’ri first came to Tiki, presenting a canvas along with a formal speech about how she knew Tiki grieved the loss of her mortal friends…and she knew—she of all people knew—she could not release Tiki of that pain, but she hoped that this small token would at least give it shape, that it might aid in her mourning…Tiki hadn’t known what to expect. She nodded along, waiting with her hands folded until Say’ri threw the sheet off of the canvas. The hands flew to her mouth then, smothering a gasp.
The painting portrayed a smaller Tiki—Say’ri imagined her with more abundant hair and a redder outfit, but it was unmistakably her—sitting at Marth’s knee, watching him tell a tale with rapt attention. No patron could deny Say’ri’s skill: who else could weave a story from Marth’s lips simply by painting them open? That she never met the man made it all the more impressive.
Except. Except, that was when Tiki noticed, and the tears forming in her eyes changed meaning, and she fell back.
When she can finally speak, it’s in the same inhuman shriek.
“Say’ri, who in Naga’s name told you that Mar-Mar didn’t wear pants?”
“’Tis an uncommon portrayal, but a historian I spoke with claimed it to be true.” Say’ri fiddles with her paintbrush, which she brought in place of her sword. “They seemed an untrustworthy sort, now that I think on it, but they claimed to have made your acquaintance. Have I erred?”
Tiki sobers, both because Say’ri resembles a puppy awaiting punishment and because she knows exactly which acquaintance Say’ri means. “No, it’s perfect. Never have I received such a heartfelt gift, and I thank you.”
Though still a portrait of bemusement, Say’ri bows. “I aim to please. And I’m honored you think so highly of it,” she adds, looking thoughtful. “Between other duties, I was afraid my life as a painter was on its last legs.”
The wordplay sets off another shriek from Tiki, finally summoning a cleric who leaves scratching her head. Once all the excitement dies down, Tiki retires to rest, hoping to uncover lighter memories that the weight of her grieving has pushed down.
If nothing else, at least she can anticipate some earnest mortal a couple thousand years down the line sympathizing with her mourning of an ancient dynast named Say’ri, and deciding to paint Tiki a portrait of her without pants.
Title: Could Have
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #16 - someone will remember us
Word Count: 824
Summary: Any records of relationships like theirs have been erased. Say'ri seeks guidance.
someone will remember us
I say
even in another time
Star clusters stretch in a band falling behind the distant mountains. One of Say’ri’s hands rests on the grass, delicate enough not to disrupt the cherry blossoms dotting the ground. The other is woven into the hair of the woman curled on her lap, purring. The scene could have been frozen in a wall scroll at the palace. Could have.
If Say’ri were to peer around the branches obscuring the peak of the night sky, she could find the Wings of Love constellation Ylisseans say immortalizes their Hero-King’s adoration for his Queen. Chon’sin sees the same wing with sharper edges, but it depicts only a lone manakete.
Say’ri’s not one to act with hesitation. Were she unwilling to take a woman or a dragon as a lover, she would scarcely have entertained the thought. She certainly won’t cast aside the gifts Tiki has given her out of fear of forging a new path. Yet if a warrior like her found such gentleness, she can’t imagine it is new. What happened, then, to the others, the ones that twinkled before an inky night blotted them out? And while her rebellion would be remembered, would this?
Tiki’s nature answers that question bitterly enough. The thought sparks an idea she usually disregards, not wanting to dig up phantoms from Tiki’s past when she herself looks to the future. Carefully Say’ri lifts her hand from Tiki’s hair. Her breath loses its purr; she’s awake.
“My—Tiki, I’ve a question, if I may impose.”
“Always. What is it?”
The fingers in the grass scratch at the dirt, digging small tracks. “The love between the Hero-King and Queen Caeda is oft fabled,” she starts. Tiki’s body freezes in the way it does whenever her old friends are mentioned, but it would be crueler to cause the reaction without purpose, so Say’ri continues. “I wondered if any from that time held love for those of different stations, or different origins, or…really, those only the same in gender.”
“Of course. Archanea may have been sparsely populated compared to modern Ylisse, but its emperor and empress had people to rule.”
It’s a terse answer, for her, and Say’ri knows she must realize why the question was asked. Nevertheless the night feels dream-like enough to erase propriety. “May I ask if you were acquainted with such people?”
After tensing again, Tiki sighs. “My relations were limited, but…yes. I am not sure if I should…”
“I’ll not force you, but if there’s something you would voice, I will listen.” Say’ri struggles to sound sympathetic rather than lean into the offer like a gossiping courtier.
“Ah, what’s the harm now? The Hero-King was beloved by many, not only the wife he chose. One of them was…well, my sibling, you could say.” Her tone hints at an eye-roll. Say’ri doesn’t wonder at that, too floored by the domino of epiphanies.
“I shall not pry further,” she says. “However, allow me to rephrase my question: did you know of any such people who found happiness?”
Tiki tilts her head to slip a hand under it, cupping Say’ri’s knee. “If it’s happiness you lack, you need only ask it of me.” The purr has returned, making Say’ri’s throat bob.
“My own affairs are well settled,” she says. “I only wondered if anyone else found this.”
There is only so much feeling that can be put into one word, even if Say’ri is used to one word bearing more than she can hold. This she demonstrates by returning her palm to the curve of Tiki’s head.
“Ah,” Tiki says. “Then, I know not if they were happy—they knew similar tragedy as you—but I do know that after abdicating the throne, the warrior Minerva settled into a peaceful life, and one of her pegasus knights later flew to return to her side.”
“Princess Minerva, commander of the Whitewings?” Say’ri breathes. Though not of Chon’sin, she’s a figure Say’ri has often looked to for inspiration on the battlefield. She hadn’t thought they might have something in common off of it.
“Yes. She was a kind woman. Sometimes she’d let me ride with her when my wings ached.”
Between Tiki’s growth and the loss of most of ancient Macedon’s portraits, Say’ri can’t conjure the image. She instead wonders if Minerva thought she and her knight had parted for good after the wars, and if she ever lay with her knight under a tree, and if she hoped somebody would remember that she did.
“I suppose I thought…someone such as me wouldn’t have this,” Say’ri says, her voice quiet and throaty. Tiki yawns.
“Well, that’s just poppycock.” Say’ri has a stray memory of her entertaining a friendship with Maribelle. Still that settles the matter well enough, so she lets it be.
But she thinks, when she next has free time and daylight to work by, she’ll paint stars in the path of a wing, and connect the dots in two different shapes.
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sappho #2 -- Some men say an army of horse
Word Count: 330
Summary: Say'ri discovers Tiki's unusual hoard.
Some men say an army of horse and some men say an army on foot
and some men say an army of ships is the most beautiful thing
on the black earth. But I say it is
what you love.
Tiki lies curled just enough aloft that to Say’ri’s tired eyes she appears to be floating. Only fire and stars light the campsite, and inside the tent, Say’ri must kneel with her lantern to see the source of her lady’s flight: a small mound of stones piled under Tiki’s abdomen. She’s studied enough lore to recognize a hoard. Paintings depict dragons sitting on mountains of swords and silver, each coin smaller than a scale. T’would be difficult to harm an enemy with such tiny blades, Say’ri thinks as she bends lower over her sleeping lady.
Tiki half-yawns, her fangs concealed. After enough apologies, Say’ri has learned this means Tiki was already awake.
“Tis late enough that you should slumber,” Say’ri says. “I only wanted to ensure nothing distressed you.”
“I’m fine. You need rest more than I.”
Ignoring the hint, Say’ri furtively studies Tiki’s collection. Nothing about the stones seems precious; they wouldn’t be, if Tiki gathered them on the march. Yet a second glance reveals that no two are alike. Her curiosity wars with discretion. Tales of hoards usually end with attempted thieves being swallowed whole, idle trespassers escaping with gouged eyes.
She did not lead a rebellion without practicing calculated risk. “Perhaps you’d sleep more deeply on smoother ground.”
Tiki cracks open a lid, her iris half-yellow. Without rolling off she wriggles just enough to flip onto her back, her knees bent, and pulls her nightshirt up over her abdomen. Say’ri flinches away.
Tiki’s toes tap the ground, a sure demand for attention. When Say’ri looks, her light shines on a set of scales like built-in chainmail over Tiki’s ribs.
“Ah,” she breathes. Tiki tugs the shirt back down.
“Did that answer your question?”
In truth, Say’ri yearns to know just what attracts a goddess to little more than pebbles the soldiers trod on without thought. But calculating risks means retreating with eyes intact, so she leaves that mystery for another eve, or at least her midnight fancies.
Title: Bare Necessities
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: PG
Prompt: Sappho #3 -- ...among mortal women, know this
Word Count: 483
Summary: Say'ri's plan to comfort Tiki works in a way other than expected.
...among mortal women, know this
...from every care
...you could release me
In her second millennia, Tiki hears her own laugh for the first time. Childhood giggles, or a recent, statelier variation are another matter—it took little to delight her in her youth, and responding to lords’ banter is a matter of courtesy. But it turns out that when she bursts of mirth she rolls back and curls up, clutching a shaking chest, and emits such a shriek that she’s glad nobody else is nearby to investigate.
When Say’ri first came to Tiki, presenting a canvas along with a formal speech about how she knew Tiki grieved the loss of her mortal friends…and she knew—she of all people knew—she could not release Tiki of that pain, but she hoped that this small token would at least give it shape, that it might aid in her mourning…Tiki hadn’t known what to expect. She nodded along, waiting with her hands folded until Say’ri threw the sheet off of the canvas. The hands flew to her mouth then, smothering a gasp.
The painting portrayed a smaller Tiki—Say’ri imagined her with more abundant hair and a redder outfit, but it was unmistakably her—sitting at Marth’s knee, watching him tell a tale with rapt attention. No patron could deny Say’ri’s skill: who else could weave a story from Marth’s lips simply by painting them open? That she never met the man made it all the more impressive.
Except. Except, that was when Tiki noticed, and the tears forming in her eyes changed meaning, and she fell back.
When she can finally speak, it’s in the same inhuman shriek.
“Say’ri, who in Naga’s name told you that Mar-Mar didn’t wear pants?”
“’Tis an uncommon portrayal, but a historian I spoke with claimed it to be true.” Say’ri fiddles with her paintbrush, which she brought in place of her sword. “They seemed an untrustworthy sort, now that I think on it, but they claimed to have made your acquaintance. Have I erred?”
Tiki sobers, both because Say’ri resembles a puppy awaiting punishment and because she knows exactly which acquaintance Say’ri means. “No, it’s perfect. Never have I received such a heartfelt gift, and I thank you.”
Though still a portrait of bemusement, Say’ri bows. “I aim to please. And I’m honored you think so highly of it,” she adds, looking thoughtful. “Between other duties, I was afraid my life as a painter was on its last legs.”
The wordplay sets off another shriek from Tiki, finally summoning a cleric who leaves scratching her head. Once all the excitement dies down, Tiki retires to rest, hoping to uncover lighter memories that the weight of her grieving has pushed down.
If nothing else, at least she can anticipate some earnest mortal a couple thousand years down the line sympathizing with her mourning of an ancient dynast named Say’ri, and deciding to paint Tiki a portrait of her without pants.
Title: Could Have
Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening
Pairing: Say'ri/Tiki
Rating: G
Prompt: Sappho #16 - someone will remember us
Word Count: 824
Summary: Any records of relationships like theirs have been erased. Say'ri seeks guidance.
someone will remember us
I say
even in another time
Star clusters stretch in a band falling behind the distant mountains. One of Say’ri’s hands rests on the grass, delicate enough not to disrupt the cherry blossoms dotting the ground. The other is woven into the hair of the woman curled on her lap, purring. The scene could have been frozen in a wall scroll at the palace. Could have.
If Say’ri were to peer around the branches obscuring the peak of the night sky, she could find the Wings of Love constellation Ylisseans say immortalizes their Hero-King’s adoration for his Queen. Chon’sin sees the same wing with sharper edges, but it depicts only a lone manakete.
Say’ri’s not one to act with hesitation. Were she unwilling to take a woman or a dragon as a lover, she would scarcely have entertained the thought. She certainly won’t cast aside the gifts Tiki has given her out of fear of forging a new path. Yet if a warrior like her found such gentleness, she can’t imagine it is new. What happened, then, to the others, the ones that twinkled before an inky night blotted them out? And while her rebellion would be remembered, would this?
Tiki’s nature answers that question bitterly enough. The thought sparks an idea she usually disregards, not wanting to dig up phantoms from Tiki’s past when she herself looks to the future. Carefully Say’ri lifts her hand from Tiki’s hair. Her breath loses its purr; she’s awake.
“My—Tiki, I’ve a question, if I may impose.”
“Always. What is it?”
The fingers in the grass scratch at the dirt, digging small tracks. “The love between the Hero-King and Queen Caeda is oft fabled,” she starts. Tiki’s body freezes in the way it does whenever her old friends are mentioned, but it would be crueler to cause the reaction without purpose, so Say’ri continues. “I wondered if any from that time held love for those of different stations, or different origins, or…really, those only the same in gender.”
“Of course. Archanea may have been sparsely populated compared to modern Ylisse, but its emperor and empress had people to rule.”
It’s a terse answer, for her, and Say’ri knows she must realize why the question was asked. Nevertheless the night feels dream-like enough to erase propriety. “May I ask if you were acquainted with such people?”
After tensing again, Tiki sighs. “My relations were limited, but…yes. I am not sure if I should…”
“I’ll not force you, but if there’s something you would voice, I will listen.” Say’ri struggles to sound sympathetic rather than lean into the offer like a gossiping courtier.
“Ah, what’s the harm now? The Hero-King was beloved by many, not only the wife he chose. One of them was…well, my sibling, you could say.” Her tone hints at an eye-roll. Say’ri doesn’t wonder at that, too floored by the domino of epiphanies.
“I shall not pry further,” she says. “However, allow me to rephrase my question: did you know of any such people who found happiness?”
Tiki tilts her head to slip a hand under it, cupping Say’ri’s knee. “If it’s happiness you lack, you need only ask it of me.” The purr has returned, making Say’ri’s throat bob.
“My own affairs are well settled,” she says. “I only wondered if anyone else found this.”
There is only so much feeling that can be put into one word, even if Say’ri is used to one word bearing more than she can hold. This she demonstrates by returning her palm to the curve of Tiki’s head.
“Ah,” Tiki says. “Then, I know not if they were happy—they knew similar tragedy as you—but I do know that after abdicating the throne, the warrior Minerva settled into a peaceful life, and one of her pegasus knights later flew to return to her side.”
“Princess Minerva, commander of the Whitewings?” Say’ri breathes. Though not of Chon’sin, she’s a figure Say’ri has often looked to for inspiration on the battlefield. She hadn’t thought they might have something in common off of it.
“Yes. She was a kind woman. Sometimes she’d let me ride with her when my wings ached.”
Between Tiki’s growth and the loss of most of ancient Macedon’s portraits, Say’ri can’t conjure the image. She instead wonders if Minerva thought she and her knight had parted for good after the wars, and if she ever lay with her knight under a tree, and if she hoped somebody would remember that she did.
“I suppose I thought…someone such as me wouldn’t have this,” Say’ri says, her voice quiet and throaty. Tiki yawns.
“Well, that’s just poppycock.” Say’ri has a stray memory of her entertaining a friendship with Maribelle. Still that settles the matter well enough, so she lets it be.
But she thinks, when she next has free time and daylight to work by, she’ll paint stars in the path of a wing, and connect the dots in two different shapes.