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myaru, you know the drill. original S/Z fic and Apologia
Lin once was amused by the fact that I aged Sanaki and avoided the underage again but actually...in the original draft, she was thirteen. It was directly after the war instead of several years later. The change wasn't due to squick but substance. I wanted more of a background and a chance for Lehran to work some of his angst out in some woody place. It sort of inspired this hypothetical possible unrelated ficverse all based on Greek/Latin root words beginning with A.
Anyways, this was a gift to Myaru for finishing the five-senses challenge (which still hasn't been judged, I think) she in turn wrote me The Metal Worker's Wife..which I don't have a link of at the moment. I finished this as part Nanowork though I got down about 500+ words and sort of wrote myself into a corner.
ap·o·lo·gi·a
n. A formal defense or justification.
It had taken seven years before Lehran was summoned again to the courts of Sienne. Those years had passed with no undue slowness, for what was a few years in the course of hundreds? He had busied himself with the affairs of herons. It was a side of him that hadn’t been opened since the burning time, and from those ashes had grown something past the wounded, ash flecked flesh.
It came on perfumed lettering from her own desk. He had prompted her to make such measures, she was always bored with letter writing but at his insistence she had mastered it simply to spite him. Now she could weave in the most biting insults under a facade of politeness. (That was one skill she’d taught herself, he’d certainly had no hand in such a thing)
He had refused his king’s offer of some retinue, a few companions to ensure his safe arrival, and most of all his return. King Tibarn was no fool, and even in times of peace he wasn’t about to let one vendetta and one former betrayal set the country ablaze again. He could politely refuse King Tibarn’s wishes, but he could not turn hers down. If he had ever dared such a thing, he could be certain that within the week she would be at his doorstep, demanding entrance.
I suppose I have nothing to point out here except that I really liked writing the Lehran view and Sanaki glimpses here. Lehran's jadedness is fascinating to capture
It had been years since he had truly traversed, and he donned his old bishop’s clothes, the cloak and the concealment charm that had shelled him for twenty or more years. He forgets the minor details sometimes, and others are so stark and burnt onto his mind, he will never mistake the passing of time or the jagged scar that mars the date. Even calendars look like battlefields when riddled with such memories.
Lehran left during the night with a note at his intentions. King Tibarn already knew that he had been summoned, as did Reyson. The rest could guess at his absence. With the verdancy of the Serenes behind him, he focused only on the dusty road ahead. This time Zelgius would not be there to travel with him, as in the earlier days. He prayed for his compatriot’s soul, even as he knows that the goddess is far from this world. It is a habit that he is far too familiar with to break.
When the gates of Sienne were near, the feeling welling within him was bittersweet. Happy memories some, but they were darkened by the long, black shadows of his falling. It wasn’t until he reached the castle gates that the cloak and charm did at last fall and the dark feathers were revealed to the sun again.
The halls had not changed in his absence, nor would they in the event of his death. The white marble walls and arched doorways, the high doors, the tapestries and even the servants had remained the same. Only she had changed. She was seated on tall chair made of thick wood and painted white. The cushions were of the same white with gold threading and were large and seemed to take up most of the chair itself. She sat there, imperial, arch and elegant. Her gaze captured his and was as cold as the statues, as the ice of the northernmost regions of Daein.
He bowed on bent knee for what seemed a long time, years perhaps. She did not offer her hand for him to kiss, but finally ordered him up with a terse word. She rose and the gown spilled out from her in many shades of richest purple and red and gold. She gave a glance over her shoulder and beckoned him to follow. She had promised vats of boiling oil, bamboo under his fingernails and hot irons for his skin but Lehran knew better. Her anger could be immediate, an vicious inferno, but it would soon cool.
Instead of walking with head held high as he had always taught her, Lehran walked behind with his wings folded and head bent towards the ground. It was only a proper response when dealing with an Empress, and he was no longer her chancellor, guardian and guide. He was a pariah, not their beloved high leader in these courtyards.
She had grown taller while he was away, no longer was she the petulant royal child but a young woman. He always forgot. Time passed so quickly for the beorc. In another blink she’d be twenty then thirty, then forty, then fifty then– Their marrow and bones so quickly became dust.
this was one of my favorite lines to write, somehow. I liked the fleeting aspect of how Lehran views humanity.
When they met the royal pegasus knights on the way, Tanith did nothing to disguise her disgust. Sigrun was more polite, though there was a coldness in her voice that made even pleasant words. He expected nothing less. He had proven a most trusted traitor, and his betrayal that had shaken Begnion to the very foundations. In the fallout, every new official and senator would be carefully scrutinized; eyes alight of any trace of disloyalty.
He was almost surprised to find the room he was lead to was not some dank dungeon deep within the catacombs of the city, but her personal chambers. The room was just as if it were seven years ago. The sheer drapery imported from Persis, the woven rug from Daein and a painting done by a master from Crimea. All offerings to appease an unpleased ward who took dire offense should he stray from the boundaries of their country for too long.
She seated herself on the bed, a large four poster creation set in scarlet. He had said that scarlet, a whore’s color was hardly the color of a young, fairly innocent girl Empress but she had persisted until she got her way – just as she always had and always would.
Myaru was inordinately amused about Sanaki dressing up in whore's colors XD
“Sit,” she commanded.
He obeyed, his heaven-woven garments spread out beneath him on the floor where he knelt.
it was originally 'goddess-woven garments'
His wings were brushed night and the reflections of firelight seemed minor stars in those depths. She surveyed him cold, merciless eyes. They betrayed nothing of the inner turmoil that he knew must lay beneath her surface. This was a taught skill, not innate for her first instinct was to burn and destroy whatever stood in her way.
You know it was Sephiran's teachings that kept her from burninating the whole senate. SANAKI! BURNINATING THE SENATE! BURNINATING THE VIIIIIILAAAAGGGE
It had been he who had cultured her in the ways of Begnion. The right coaches, the personal touches, just enough armor to save her from the culture, the people and their ways– He didn’t even need to read the senate to know their treachery, he had taught her to be suspicious of undue kindness and sweet words. He had taught her everything to protect herself – but he hadn’t taught her how to protect her from himself.
Begnion was mired in its own slowness, true reforms would take generations, even hundreds of years to pass through. He had known this all too well, fighting against the senate only to be beaten down by one vote or have his changes argued out leaving the ensuing law.
At times he would have to take their own tactics against him. A sentence that abolished laguz slavery had been hidden deep in a bill that raised the senate’s own wages. To survive in Begnion one had to be cunning, fools would not live long in such a country.
I loved that joke. It was sort of a poke at the US congress and their habit of passing nothing but Pork Barrel and raises for themselves
“Talk,” she commanded.
“Pardon me, Empress?”
“This is your apologia. Choose your defense wisely.”
He thought of how eight hundred years could possibly be set to words. It would not be an easy feat, some things would have to be condensed, some merged for the sake of brevity.
“You learned about the three heroes in your studies. And about the goddesss...and Lehran,” he began slowly.
“You said he was a legend, more myth than man though one bearing that name had actually existed.”
“I told the truth,” Lehran replied.
I love this moment. Where you get to see the mythic figure of Lehran and the man behind him. I loved writing that. In fact I liked it for so much it took me ages to get farther because it was like 'ok, now where from here?'
“Well,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen down on them, foglike, obscuring a once easy relationship– “You look young for your age. I’m sure the ladies will be begging for your secrets,” she said dryly.
Lehran couldn’t help but chuckle, her face was stony and just as fierce as she made small, biting jokes.
“Yes, I suppose.”
“They might invite you to parties and try and get you to marry their daughters for the sole sake of youthful genes. You are hereby commanded to refuse.”
Somebody's jealous~
“Of course, my lady.”
She inclined her head, regally, she observed his every behavior. She had weighed and measured him, and found him wanting.
Yes, I did choose that wording on purpose. Lame? Probably. It amused me though
Their roles were so changed now; in the end, perhaps she would be the one to teach him.
To teach him to stop angsting and enjoy being tied to the bed? Sure.
“You have not explained. You said that day that you never lied but you never said why–.” Her voice broke as she said the words and her impassive face showed hints of an inner scar still unhealed. For the first time she betrayed some caring, some depth of emotion and he felt drawn to hold her and stoke her hair, to tell her that it would be alright. He pushed that desire down and kept his expression calm and collected, as if he had not seen her emotions betrayed to him.
“I lived a long time and there comes a point when you realize that the world doesn’t change very much. Five hundred years of fighting for a cause that is undone in one night’s time, ending the madness seemed the only cure.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason? You are a fool,” she said. “You never should have doubted that I would’ve brought upon peace.”
She's still miffed that he didn't include her in the doomsday plans
She was the same fiery girl, the same defiance, only grown tenfold. He had to stifle a smile and keep his face blank lest she see through him.
“Yes...” he said. “That was my flaw, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“Rise,” she commanded.
He obeyed. She also rose and walked the space until she was directly facing him. She had grown, yes, but he still was quite a bit taller than her making it so that she had to look up to meet his eyes.
“You aren’t forgiven. I will not even forgive such a betrayal. But– You are more useful here. Let your works be your defense, stop moping about and ensure that peace you fought for. Your punishment will be to be in my service until my – or your death.”
“You are gracious, my lady.”
She leaned up, and for a moment he thought her to be adjusting his collar, but instead she pulled on it and forced him to bend until her lips met his. It was a spark, a tinge of flame that he had forgotten and she kissed with the undue passion that he had always knew lie in those veins. When she pulled back he felt dazed, and so much younger. He had forgotten how love could change things. He’d always known she hadn’t looked at him in any fatherly way but he had politely stepped aside and waited for the infatuation to pass. These things happened, guardian’s became the object of adoration from their wards, it was an oft occurrence – one that often ended in wedlock.
I always wonder if my kiss scenes aren't too dramatic. I'm something of a major hermit and I honestly haven't dated since I was a teen, which is either really sad or proof that written word x me = OTP! It kind of makes me wonder if I'll never be able to write physical scenes quite right because I'm too busy being gay for writing. Like in this movie called...Shadow of the Sun I think it was. It was about this guy who was a literary agent and who was trying to convince this author to come out of retirement. To make a point in one scene, the author punches the guy in the stomach and tells him to describe it. I guess to me kissing will always the the dramatic fiction I've digested because my experienced was disappointing.
Her gaze had not softened, precisely, it had the same fierceness, but it had given to a sort of precision.
“You work begins now. I expect your humble obedience to my every command,” she said, but it was more a raspy purr than an order.
“And you will have nothing less, my Empress,” Lehran said.
She stroked the edge of his jaw. “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then again, nothing had changed, Lehran thought. She always persisted and she always got her way, even if it took moving the world in the process.
If Ashera ever came back, Sanaki would saunter up and go BACK OFF BITCH, HE'S MINE
Would he be the secret lover or would he once again wed a woman in Begnion? Lehran couldn’t tell if his future would contain backdoor curtains and stolen shadows, or the life of a consort and advisor returning to the public eye.
Whatever his fate would be, it was in her hands now.
There was supposed to be a followup to this. It'll get written up eventually, though I'll probably substitute Myaru's Chirstmas piece for something easier to write. This is one of those where my style began to be tighter so reading through it makes me happy and not cringe like earlier works.
Ok, as in context this was a fic I finished after I had a ton of fic to finish. I was up until 5AM finishing Markedly and I Like Your Silence AND THIS all on the same day. It was pretty epic, actually. I kindasorta looking back see this as a bit more dramatic but hey, that's what she wanted. Dramatic love confessions. Still, I kind of cringe when I look back. The title is a quote, possibly paraphrased. For a bit I used quotes as titles for kink memes but it wasn't too long because it grew cumbersome when archiving.
It took Zelgius five days longer to return from Crimea than was scheduled.
Sephiran waited, looking from his balcony out to the courtyard where Zelgius would always appear out of the darkness, looking a nightmare formed to life.
Huh, I've used that simile before. I keep forgetting. I gotta retire it.
A gnawing sense of worry grew in him as each day passed. He waited.
Until one night, he heard the trill on the air of warp powder, and saw the blue light in the courtyard.
Sephiran bridged the distance fast, robes fluttering and hair swaying as he took the stairs two at a time.
same with bridged the distance/closed the distance. What better word is there to use for it, though?
“I have been waiting You were gone a long while....” Sephiran said when he finally reached the courtyard.
“It was a misjudgement. Forgive me for failing.”
“It was no such thing. I am glad to see you returned safe.”
Zelgius took off the armor, piece by piece revealing the person beneath the ebony interlocking sheets of metal.. There were bruises, no open wounds as the armor had protected him, yet, he was still gravely injured.
Zelgius fell to his knees, free of the burden of the armor, and Sephiran knelt by his side. The fortify staff glowed blueish white in the moonlight.
“It still will take time to heal, you should rest for a while. I would not wish to see you die, Zelgius. Please be more careful.” Sephiran said
“There are things I have not told you..”
Sephiran knew, even as he had lost his powers, he could no longer read hearts, and yet, he knew Zelgius’.
“Zelgius...”
“My life would be meaningless without you here. Meaningless” Zelgius said.
“Please, don’t push yourself too far, you might reopen your wounds.”
Zelgius reached out then, he slid his fingers though the waves of smooth dark hair, he stroked Sephiran’s face with the back of his knuckle. Sephiran cradled his hand over Zelgius’.
“...I would very unhappy if you were to leave and not return.” Sephiran said
“I’ll always return to your side.” He cupped Sephiran’s chin, held it there for a moment, simply searching, and then he kissed his lord, master, reason for living and love.
Zelgius pulled Sephiran to him, holding him carefully, gently, as if he was made of glass and might break at any moment. Then, Zelgius lifted Sephiran, He pressed a finger to silence Sephiran’s protests, and carried him in from the courtyard, to the adjoining terrace and up the stairs to Sephiran’s room.
In retrospect, this didn't come off as subtle as I wanted it to. Weird, I'm an affectionate person but when in writing it must be subtle, subtle subtle. I cringe at direct declarations of love unless they're very subtle.
Zelgius placed him on the bed, they kissed again as he began to undo Sephiran’s robes, they spilled over to pool over the side of the bed, falling to the floor.
In the moonlight, Sephiran looked ghostly, naked body fanned by coal black hair, dark feathers revealed in the wan light.
This was inspired by this one fanart from Spritzer which yes, was R rated. Spritzer's stuff was awesome
“You have wings...” Zelgius said
“It is my secret.” Sephiran murmured.
“I will guard it. It will die with me.”
“Don’t speak of such things..” Sephiran whispered, a finger to Zelgius’ lips.
He balanced Sephiran over his hips, they kissed and kissed like they were drowning and could only survive on shared air. His hands went up Sephiran’s back, tracing over skin and bone. Sephiran began to undo Zelgius’ shirt, pushing it off over his arms, till it fell to the floor. Pants and undergarments followed shortly after until there was nothing left between them. Bare skin touched bare skin, they were wrapped up tight together, their own world.
“Zelgius...”
He kissed at Sephiran’s collarbone, so fragile, downwards, to suck on a nipple. They both were hard
Sephiran panted, clung tight as they rocked, bodies tense and yearning.
His fingers traced down, almost reverently , till they reached and touched, Sephiran moaned, quiet, rocking against the light strokes against his cock. Fingers, bodies, they touched.
When Sephiran came it was in shudders and gasps, quietly strangled and held back. Zelgius could feel Sephiran grow limp in his arms, warmth passing through and post-coital bliss. Zelgius took longer, but only by seconds until the heat overwhelmed him and he came.
Sephiran settles against him, face buried against his chest. “I hope to know you a long time, Zelgius.”
“Don’t be hasty, the night’s just begun.”
And Zelgius lifted his chin, and kissed him again.
Uh, yeah. I actually wanted to write more but I was incredibly tired and I wanted to finish it since I'd accidentally replied to mini. In retrospect I hadn't quite gotten the characterization down yet. I got close, but with better realization I realize that some stuff could remain more understated, etc. It's a stepping stone! I really need to go write that epic-gen-au-which-was-supposed-to-be-porn shouldn't I?
myaru, you know the drill. original S/Z fic and Apologia Lin once was amused by the fact that I aged Sanaki and avoided the underage again but actually...in the original draft, she was thirteen. It was directly after the war instead of several years later. The change wasn't due to squick but substance. I wanted more of a background and a chance for Lehran to work some of his angst out in some woody place. It sort of inspired this hypothetical possible unrelated ficverse all based on Greek/Latin root words beginning with A.
Anyways, this was a gift to Myaru for finishing the five-senses challenge (which still hasn't been judged, I think) she in turn wrote me The Metal Worker's Wife..which I don't have a link of at the moment. I finished this as part Nanowork though I got down about 500+ words and sort of wrote myself into a corner.
ap·o·lo·gi·a
n. A formal defense or justification.
It had taken seven years before Lehran was summoned again to the courts of Sienne. Those years had passed with no undue slowness, for what was a few years in the course of hundreds? He had busied himself with the affairs of herons. It was a side of him that hadn’t been opened since the burning time, and from those ashes had grown something past the wounded, ash flecked flesh.
It came on perfumed lettering from her own desk. He had prompted her to make such measures, she was always bored with letter writing but at his insistence she had mastered it simply to spite him. Now she could weave in the most biting insults under a facade of politeness. (That was one skill she’d taught herself, he’d certainly had no hand in such a thing)
He had refused his king’s offer of some retinue, a few companions to ensure his safe arrival, and most of all his return. King Tibarn was no fool, and even in times of peace he wasn’t about to let one vendetta and one former betrayal set the country ablaze again. He could politely refuse King Tibarn’s wishes, but he could not turn hers down. If he had ever dared such a thing, he could be certain that within the week she would be at his doorstep, demanding entrance.
I suppose I have nothing to point out here except that I really liked writing the Lehran view and Sanaki glimpses here. Lehran's jadedness is fascinating to capture
It had been years since he had truly traversed, and he donned his old bishop’s clothes, the cloak and the concealment charm that had shelled him for twenty or more years. He forgets the minor details sometimes, and others are so stark and burnt onto his mind, he will never mistake the passing of time or the jagged scar that mars the date. Even calendars look like battlefields when riddled with such memories.
Lehran left during the night with a note at his intentions. King Tibarn already knew that he had been summoned, as did Reyson. The rest could guess at his absence. With the verdancy of the Serenes behind him, he focused only on the dusty road ahead. This time Zelgius would not be there to travel with him, as in the earlier days. He prayed for his compatriot’s soul, even as he knows that the goddess is far from this world. It is a habit that he is far too familiar with to break.
When the gates of Sienne were near, the feeling welling within him was bittersweet. Happy memories some, but they were darkened by the long, black shadows of his falling. It wasn’t until he reached the castle gates that the cloak and charm did at last fall and the dark feathers were revealed to the sun again.
The halls had not changed in his absence, nor would they in the event of his death. The white marble walls and arched doorways, the high doors, the tapestries and even the servants had remained the same. Only she had changed. She was seated on tall chair made of thick wood and painted white. The cushions were of the same white with gold threading and were large and seemed to take up most of the chair itself. She sat there, imperial, arch and elegant. Her gaze captured his and was as cold as the statues, as the ice of the northernmost regions of Daein.
He bowed on bent knee for what seemed a long time, years perhaps. She did not offer her hand for him to kiss, but finally ordered him up with a terse word. She rose and the gown spilled out from her in many shades of richest purple and red and gold. She gave a glance over her shoulder and beckoned him to follow. She had promised vats of boiling oil, bamboo under his fingernails and hot irons for his skin but Lehran knew better. Her anger could be immediate, an vicious inferno, but it would soon cool.
Instead of walking with head held high as he had always taught her, Lehran walked behind with his wings folded and head bent towards the ground. It was only a proper response when dealing with an Empress, and he was no longer her chancellor, guardian and guide. He was a pariah, not their beloved high leader in these courtyards.
She had grown taller while he was away, no longer was she the petulant royal child but a young woman. He always forgot. Time passed so quickly for the beorc. In another blink she’d be twenty then thirty, then forty, then fifty then– Their marrow and bones so quickly became dust.
this was one of my favorite lines to write, somehow. I liked the fleeting aspect of how Lehran views humanity.
When they met the royal pegasus knights on the way, Tanith did nothing to disguise her disgust. Sigrun was more polite, though there was a coldness in her voice that made even pleasant words. He expected nothing less. He had proven a most trusted traitor, and his betrayal that had shaken Begnion to the very foundations. In the fallout, every new official and senator would be carefully scrutinized; eyes alight of any trace of disloyalty.
He was almost surprised to find the room he was lead to was not some dank dungeon deep within the catacombs of the city, but her personal chambers. The room was just as if it were seven years ago. The sheer drapery imported from Persis, the woven rug from Daein and a painting done by a master from Crimea. All offerings to appease an unpleased ward who took dire offense should he stray from the boundaries of their country for too long.
She seated herself on the bed, a large four poster creation set in scarlet. He had said that scarlet, a whore’s color was hardly the color of a young, fairly innocent girl Empress but she had persisted until she got her way – just as she always had and always would.
Myaru was inordinately amused about Sanaki dressing up in whore's colors XD
“Sit,” she commanded.
He obeyed, his heaven-woven garments spread out beneath him on the floor where he knelt.
it was originally 'goddess-woven garments'
His wings were brushed night and the reflections of firelight seemed minor stars in those depths. She surveyed him cold, merciless eyes. They betrayed nothing of the inner turmoil that he knew must lay beneath her surface. This was a taught skill, not innate for her first instinct was to burn and destroy whatever stood in her way.
You know it was Sephiran's teachings that kept her from burninating the whole senate. SANAKI! BURNINATING THE SENATE! BURNINATING THE VIIIIIILAAAAGGGE
It had been he who had cultured her in the ways of Begnion. The right coaches, the personal touches, just enough armor to save her from the culture, the people and their ways– He didn’t even need to read the senate to know their treachery, he had taught her to be suspicious of undue kindness and sweet words. He had taught her everything to protect herself – but he hadn’t taught her how to protect her from himself.
Begnion was mired in its own slowness, true reforms would take generations, even hundreds of years to pass through. He had known this all too well, fighting against the senate only to be beaten down by one vote or have his changes argued out leaving the ensuing law.
At times he would have to take their own tactics against him. A sentence that abolished laguz slavery had been hidden deep in a bill that raised the senate’s own wages. To survive in Begnion one had to be cunning, fools would not live long in such a country.
I loved that joke. It was sort of a poke at the US congress and their habit of passing nothing but Pork Barrel and raises for themselves
“Talk,” she commanded.
“Pardon me, Empress?”
“This is your apologia. Choose your defense wisely.”
He thought of how eight hundred years could possibly be set to words. It would not be an easy feat, some things would have to be condensed, some merged for the sake of brevity.
“You learned about the three heroes in your studies. And about the goddesss...and Lehran,” he began slowly.
“You said he was a legend, more myth than man though one bearing that name had actually existed.”
“I told the truth,” Lehran replied.
I love this moment. Where you get to see the mythic figure of Lehran and the man behind him. I loved writing that. In fact I liked it for so much it took me ages to get farther because it was like 'ok, now where from here?'
“Well,” she said, breaking the silence that had fallen down on them, foglike, obscuring a once easy relationship– “You look young for your age. I’m sure the ladies will be begging for your secrets,” she said dryly.
Lehran couldn’t help but chuckle, her face was stony and just as fierce as she made small, biting jokes.
“Yes, I suppose.”
“They might invite you to parties and try and get you to marry their daughters for the sole sake of youthful genes. You are hereby commanded to refuse.”
Somebody's jealous~
“Of course, my lady.”
She inclined her head, regally, she observed his every behavior. She had weighed and measured him, and found him wanting.
Yes, I did choose that wording on purpose. Lame? Probably. It amused me though
Their roles were so changed now; in the end, perhaps she would be the one to teach him.
To teach him to stop angsting and enjoy being tied to the bed? Sure.
“You have not explained. You said that day that you never lied but you never said why–.” Her voice broke as she said the words and her impassive face showed hints of an inner scar still unhealed. For the first time she betrayed some caring, some depth of emotion and he felt drawn to hold her and stoke her hair, to tell her that it would be alright. He pushed that desire down and kept his expression calm and collected, as if he had not seen her emotions betrayed to him.
“I lived a long time and there comes a point when you realize that the world doesn’t change very much. Five hundred years of fighting for a cause that is undone in one night’s time, ending the madness seemed the only cure.”
“That’s it? That’s the reason? You are a fool,” she said. “You never should have doubted that I would’ve brought upon peace.”
She's still miffed that he didn't include her in the doomsday plans
She was the same fiery girl, the same defiance, only grown tenfold. He had to stifle a smile and keep his face blank lest she see through him.
“Yes...” he said. “That was my flaw, I shouldn’t have doubted you.”
“Rise,” she commanded.
He obeyed. She also rose and walked the space until she was directly facing him. She had grown, yes, but he still was quite a bit taller than her making it so that she had to look up to meet his eyes.
“You aren’t forgiven. I will not even forgive such a betrayal. But– You are more useful here. Let your works be your defense, stop moping about and ensure that peace you fought for. Your punishment will be to be in my service until my – or your death.”
“You are gracious, my lady.”
She leaned up, and for a moment he thought her to be adjusting his collar, but instead she pulled on it and forced him to bend until her lips met his. It was a spark, a tinge of flame that he had forgotten and she kissed with the undue passion that he had always knew lie in those veins. When she pulled back he felt dazed, and so much younger. He had forgotten how love could change things. He’d always known she hadn’t looked at him in any fatherly way but he had politely stepped aside and waited for the infatuation to pass. These things happened, guardian’s became the object of adoration from their wards, it was an oft occurrence – one that often ended in wedlock.
I always wonder if my kiss scenes aren't too dramatic. I'm something of a major hermit and I honestly haven't dated since I was a teen, which is either really sad or proof that written word x me = OTP! It kind of makes me wonder if I'll never be able to write physical scenes quite right because I'm too busy being gay for writing. Like in this movie called...Shadow of the Sun I think it was. It was about this guy who was a literary agent and who was trying to convince this author to come out of retirement. To make a point in one scene, the author punches the guy in the stomach and tells him to describe it. I guess to me kissing will always the the dramatic fiction I've digested because my experienced was disappointing.
Her gaze had not softened, precisely, it had the same fierceness, but it had given to a sort of precision.
“You work begins now. I expect your humble obedience to my every command,” she said, but it was more a raspy purr than an order.
“And you will have nothing less, my Empress,” Lehran said.
She stroked the edge of his jaw. “Good. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Then again, nothing had changed, Lehran thought. She always persisted and she always got her way, even if it took moving the world in the process.
If Ashera ever came back, Sanaki would saunter up and go BACK OFF BITCH, HE'S MINE
Would he be the secret lover or would he once again wed a woman in Begnion? Lehran couldn’t tell if his future would contain backdoor curtains and stolen shadows, or the life of a consort and advisor returning to the public eye.
Whatever his fate would be, it was in her hands now.
There was supposed to be a followup to this. It'll get written up eventually, though I'll probably substitute Myaru's Chirstmas piece for something easier to write. This is one of those where my style began to be tighter so reading through it makes me happy and not cringe like earlier works.
Ok, as in context this was a fic I finished after I had a ton of fic to finish. I was up until 5AM finishing Markedly and I Like Your Silence AND THIS all on the same day. It was pretty epic, actually. I kindasorta looking back see this as a bit more dramatic but hey, that's what she wanted. Dramatic love confessions. Still, I kind of cringe when I look back. The title is a quote, possibly paraphrased. For a bit I used quotes as titles for kink memes but it wasn't too long because it grew cumbersome when archiving.
It took Zelgius five days longer to return from Crimea than was scheduled.
Sephiran waited, looking from his balcony out to the courtyard where Zelgius would always appear out of the darkness, looking a nightmare formed to life.
Huh, I've used that simile before. I keep forgetting. I gotta retire it.
A gnawing sense of worry grew in him as each day passed. He waited.
Until one night, he heard the trill on the air of warp powder, and saw the blue light in the courtyard.
Sephiran bridged the distance fast, robes fluttering and hair swaying as he took the stairs two at a time.
same with bridged the distance/closed the distance. What better word is there to use for it, though?
“I have been waiting You were gone a long while....” Sephiran said when he finally reached the courtyard.
“It was a misjudgement. Forgive me for failing.”
“It was no such thing. I am glad to see you returned safe.”
Zelgius took off the armor, piece by piece revealing the person beneath the ebony interlocking sheets of metal.. There were bruises, no open wounds as the armor had protected him, yet, he was still gravely injured.
Zelgius fell to his knees, free of the burden of the armor, and Sephiran knelt by his side. The fortify staff glowed blueish white in the moonlight.
“It still will take time to heal, you should rest for a while. I would not wish to see you die, Zelgius. Please be more careful.” Sephiran said
“There are things I have not told you..”
Sephiran knew, even as he had lost his powers, he could no longer read hearts, and yet, he knew Zelgius’.
“Zelgius...”
“My life would be meaningless without you here. Meaningless” Zelgius said.
“Please, don’t push yourself too far, you might reopen your wounds.”
Zelgius reached out then, he slid his fingers though the waves of smooth dark hair, he stroked Sephiran’s face with the back of his knuckle. Sephiran cradled his hand over Zelgius’.
“...I would very unhappy if you were to leave and not return.” Sephiran said
“I’ll always return to your side.” He cupped Sephiran’s chin, held it there for a moment, simply searching, and then he kissed his lord, master, reason for living and love.
Zelgius pulled Sephiran to him, holding him carefully, gently, as if he was made of glass and might break at any moment. Then, Zelgius lifted Sephiran, He pressed a finger to silence Sephiran’s protests, and carried him in from the courtyard, to the adjoining terrace and up the stairs to Sephiran’s room.
In retrospect, this didn't come off as subtle as I wanted it to. Weird, I'm an affectionate person but when in writing it must be subtle, subtle subtle. I cringe at direct declarations of love unless they're very subtle.
Zelgius placed him on the bed, they kissed again as he began to undo Sephiran’s robes, they spilled over to pool over the side of the bed, falling to the floor.
In the moonlight, Sephiran looked ghostly, naked body fanned by coal black hair, dark feathers revealed in the wan light.
This was inspired by this one fanart from Spritzer which yes, was R rated. Spritzer's stuff was awesome
“You have wings...” Zelgius said
“It is my secret.” Sephiran murmured.
“I will guard it. It will die with me.”
“Don’t speak of such things..” Sephiran whispered, a finger to Zelgius’ lips.
He balanced Sephiran over his hips, they kissed and kissed like they were drowning and could only survive on shared air. His hands went up Sephiran’s back, tracing over skin and bone. Sephiran began to undo Zelgius’ shirt, pushing it off over his arms, till it fell to the floor. Pants and undergarments followed shortly after until there was nothing left between them. Bare skin touched bare skin, they were wrapped up tight together, their own world.
“Zelgius...”
He kissed at Sephiran’s collarbone, so fragile, downwards, to suck on a nipple. They both were hard
Sephiran panted, clung tight as they rocked, bodies tense and yearning.
His fingers traced down, almost reverently , till they reached and touched, Sephiran moaned, quiet, rocking against the light strokes against his cock. Fingers, bodies, they touched.
When Sephiran came it was in shudders and gasps, quietly strangled and held back. Zelgius could feel Sephiran grow limp in his arms, warmth passing through and post-coital bliss. Zelgius took longer, but only by seconds until the heat overwhelmed him and he came.
Sephiran settles against him, face buried against his chest. “I hope to know you a long time, Zelgius.”
“Don’t be hasty, the night’s just begun.”
And Zelgius lifted his chin, and kissed him again.
Uh, yeah. I actually wanted to write more but I was incredibly tired and I wanted to finish it since I'd accidentally replied to mini. In retrospect I hadn't quite gotten the characterization down yet. I got close, but with better realization I realize that some stuff could remain more understated, etc. It's a stepping stone! I really need to go write that epic-gen-au-which-was-supposed-to-be-porn shouldn't I?
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Date: 2009-01-16 11:45 am (UTC)I was amused by the whorish color comment also because obviously Lehran will have to start wearing red now that he's in her service. XD
The kiss wasn't too dramatic. (If you want dramatic, there's a story I know of that managed to draw a kiss out for an entire bloody chapter. Talk about drama.) I still like it, actually. I like how it changes his point of view, and it's also interesting that he thinks - again and again - about the passion hidden in her veins. His dwelling on Sanaki always getting what she wants is an interesting line of thought because it links back to her fiery anger and concealed emotion. It paints a picture of Sanaki as actually very controlled, except for the rare times when she snaps and goes for what she really wants - in this case, Lehran. And it shows the distance between them isn't that great even now, because he still understands her well, and she knows him well enough to see that he'll bend his neck and probably like it.
One try, and he'll let her tie him to the bed whenever she wants! Ashera can't compete with that. :D :D :D
... that was a long digression.
same with bridged the distance/closed the distance. What better word is there to use for it, though?
Crossed the distance, if you want to go with that wording. Or Sephiran could sprint to the other side of the yard, or simply run, or you can omit the physical distance altogether and say something like 'Sephiran rushed/hurried to his side,' that sort of thing.
Since you asked. :D;
I agree about blatant declarations of love. In fic, I think it's best never to use the word at all, except maybe as a joke. You did well considering that's what the OP wanted, though. At least they aren't saying YOU ARE THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE and stuff.
I still like the ending. XD