fic: Thread Bound
Aug. 26th, 2014 03:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisTitle: Thread Bound
Series: Rune Factory 4
Pairing: Forte/Margaret
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 737
Author's note: based directly off of their conversation at Christmas.
For Ember_keelty in Parallels.
Margaret hugged herself to push back the chill of the night. Small snowflakes fell down hard enough to obscure her vision, and almost make her forget how high up she was. She hummed nervously to try and distract herself, and tried to focus on the good things of being up this high. In the light of the moon, the snow sparkled all across the roofs, frost glistened on the castle like little tapestries woven into the stone. But then, as always, she looked down into the dizzying abyss, and the spell was broken.
Margaret drew back and shuddered, not entirely from the cold.
Stay calm, stay calm....oh, I feel woozy.
Just as her breath caught in her chest, and it seemed unbearable, she heard someone at the stairs. She turned, and let out a sigh of relief as she saw Forte.
"My apologies. I did not mean to keep you waiting," Forte said. "I had one last check around the perimeter before retiring for the night."
The fear lessened somewhat as Forte neared. It was still there, a dull noise at the edge of her consciousness, but a calm came with Forte's strength.
"It's no trouble, really," Margaret said. She smiled, with a slight flush. Something within her raced, a pulse quickening, an unsteady heartbeat.
It's just Forte, she mentally reprimanded herself. She let out a little embarrassing squeak. These days all her songs kept going on about dashing, princely knights.
"Are you all right?" Forte said. Her voice was forceful, powerful, velvet with a hint of steel. She closed the distance and took Margaret's wrist. The leather of her gauntlets was rough, a new touch awakening. Moonlight caught on Forte's armor, her hair and skin. Another song in the making, Margaret thought.
The wind was colder up here, more cutting through her clothes, maid for elfin summers, not cold like this. Behind them, the windmill turned around in a faint swish, swish of endless motion.
"We can't stay up here much longer, or you'll catch a chill," Forte said.
"I'll be okay, really," Margaret said. Still, after so many years of friendship, Forte saw right through her. She stepped forward, breaking the force of the wind with her body.
"Did you choose a wish?" Forte said.
There'd been only one wish on her mind for the past few years. It'd been growing steadily, fed by Lest's arrival and the many changes that it brought. It'd been an almost palatable relief when Lest had married Clorica, that the closeness was mere friendship.
"Do you think...you could take my hand while I make it? For luck," Margaret said.
Forte slipped her hand in Margaret's. The leather of her gauntlet was a new welcome roughness between her fingers and around her palm. With a side glance, she noticed that Forte was just slightly flushed. Through the years she'd seen Forte hide away her love of cute things and sweets. She'd seen Forte hold back her feelings after the death of her father, and take up his sword, even when she was too weak to carry it.
The tales said that people who spent this holiday together would be bound together, the threads of their lives woven tight. Her wish wasn't a single word, but a long series of memories. The first time she caught sight of Forte in profile, the first time they'd fought side by side, and so many later moments that made up their friendship.
She kept her eyes closed past the cold and held onto those moments. She focused on the light, the warmth, and every time Forte had reassured her, had made her smile.
It didn't feel like any new magic had come across her. Sill, she didn't let go of Forte's hand.
"Ehe. Will you come stay at my house a while? We can have warm cider to heat us up."
"Yes, that sounds wonderful," Forte said. She paused a moment, her gaze caught by snowfall and something far off that Margaret couldn't see.
"What did you wish for?" Forte said finally.
She looked to Forte a long time before replying. "...It's a secret. What about you?"
Forte stumbled a moment, adorable in her flusteredness. "A secret!"
Margaret smiled. They'd keep that secret together.
*
Transcript of the scene behind this fic.
Margaret: Has everyone heard the legend behind this festival?
Clorica: Isn't it that you will have your wish granted if you wish on the highest star in the skty?
Amber: Really? We can just fly off the tower to find the highest one, then!
Forte: You're the only one who can fly, Amber.
Xiao Pai: There's another legend that says making a wish with someone will form an eternal bond, yes?
Pico: "Dolly! Milady! Let's go right now!"
Dolce: How about I wish to be alone for eternity?
Margaret: Those two are the same as ever, I see. While it's very romantic, all this talk about heights gives me the shivers.
Forte: Oh, yes, you were never fond of heights, were you, Meg? Would you like me to stand beside you?
Clorica: Oh, dear. And what if the two of you made a wish together, then?
Xiao Pai: They'd be bound, I guess...?
Margaret: Ah ha ha! That wouldn't be so bad. Forte is quite the dashing prince of a knight, after all.
Forte: Was that meant to be a compliment?
Series: Rune Factory 4
Pairing: Forte/Margaret
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 737
Author's note: based directly off of their conversation at Christmas.
For Ember_keelty in Parallels.
Margaret hugged herself to push back the chill of the night. Small snowflakes fell down hard enough to obscure her vision, and almost make her forget how high up she was. She hummed nervously to try and distract herself, and tried to focus on the good things of being up this high. In the light of the moon, the snow sparkled all across the roofs, frost glistened on the castle like little tapestries woven into the stone. But then, as always, she looked down into the dizzying abyss, and the spell was broken.
Margaret drew back and shuddered, not entirely from the cold.
Stay calm, stay calm....oh, I feel woozy.
Just as her breath caught in her chest, and it seemed unbearable, she heard someone at the stairs. She turned, and let out a sigh of relief as she saw Forte.
"My apologies. I did not mean to keep you waiting," Forte said. "I had one last check around the perimeter before retiring for the night."
The fear lessened somewhat as Forte neared. It was still there, a dull noise at the edge of her consciousness, but a calm came with Forte's strength.
"It's no trouble, really," Margaret said. She smiled, with a slight flush. Something within her raced, a pulse quickening, an unsteady heartbeat.
It's just Forte, she mentally reprimanded herself. She let out a little embarrassing squeak. These days all her songs kept going on about dashing, princely knights.
"Are you all right?" Forte said. Her voice was forceful, powerful, velvet with a hint of steel. She closed the distance and took Margaret's wrist. The leather of her gauntlets was rough, a new touch awakening. Moonlight caught on Forte's armor, her hair and skin. Another song in the making, Margaret thought.
The wind was colder up here, more cutting through her clothes, maid for elfin summers, not cold like this. Behind them, the windmill turned around in a faint swish, swish of endless motion.
"We can't stay up here much longer, or you'll catch a chill," Forte said.
"I'll be okay, really," Margaret said. Still, after so many years of friendship, Forte saw right through her. She stepped forward, breaking the force of the wind with her body.
"Did you choose a wish?" Forte said.
There'd been only one wish on her mind for the past few years. It'd been growing steadily, fed by Lest's arrival and the many changes that it brought. It'd been an almost palatable relief when Lest had married Clorica, that the closeness was mere friendship.
"Do you think...you could take my hand while I make it? For luck," Margaret said.
Forte slipped her hand in Margaret's. The leather of her gauntlet was a new welcome roughness between her fingers and around her palm. With a side glance, she noticed that Forte was just slightly flushed. Through the years she'd seen Forte hide away her love of cute things and sweets. She'd seen Forte hold back her feelings after the death of her father, and take up his sword, even when she was too weak to carry it.
The tales said that people who spent this holiday together would be bound together, the threads of their lives woven tight. Her wish wasn't a single word, but a long series of memories. The first time she caught sight of Forte in profile, the first time they'd fought side by side, and so many later moments that made up their friendship.
She kept her eyes closed past the cold and held onto those moments. She focused on the light, the warmth, and every time Forte had reassured her, had made her smile.
It didn't feel like any new magic had come across her. Sill, she didn't let go of Forte's hand.
"Ehe. Will you come stay at my house a while? We can have warm cider to heat us up."
"Yes, that sounds wonderful," Forte said. She paused a moment, her gaze caught by snowfall and something far off that Margaret couldn't see.
"What did you wish for?" Forte said finally.
She looked to Forte a long time before replying. "...It's a secret. What about you?"
Forte stumbled a moment, adorable in her flusteredness. "A secret!"
Margaret smiled. They'd keep that secret together.
*
Transcript of the scene behind this fic.
Margaret: Has everyone heard the legend behind this festival?
Clorica: Isn't it that you will have your wish granted if you wish on the highest star in the skty?
Amber: Really? We can just fly off the tower to find the highest one, then!
Forte: You're the only one who can fly, Amber.
Xiao Pai: There's another legend that says making a wish with someone will form an eternal bond, yes?
Pico: "Dolly! Milady! Let's go right now!"
Dolce: How about I wish to be alone for eternity?
Margaret: Those two are the same as ever, I see. While it's very romantic, all this talk about heights gives me the shivers.
Forte: Oh, yes, you were never fond of heights, were you, Meg? Would you like me to stand beside you?
Clorica: Oh, dear. And what if the two of you made a wish together, then?
Xiao Pai: They'd be bound, I guess...?
Margaret: Ah ha ha! That wouldn't be so bad. Forte is quite the dashing prince of a knight, after all.
Forte: Was that meant to be a compliment?
