A couple more drabbles.
Mar. 22nd, 2007 09:30 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
oneill posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
sutepriSome spoilers, I think, though it's kind of hard to tell from this angle. These were actually part of ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
evey_w's Christmas present, so no touchy. Not that that's really an issue, but. XD;
---
Counterpoint
The steam and the murmuring chatter of the bathhouse had a soporific effect, and in his light doze, Fulle found himself estimating the capacity of the tub he was soaking in. He supposed that, by the time he turned twelve years old, he had spilt enough blood to fill it. Over the course of the next year, the amount had doubled. He had never given such things much thought before--the life of a Black Hawk was the only one he'd ever known, and he couldn't see any use in moralizing now.
But Fulle's thoughts had taken a morbid turn lately, ever since he'd found Pamela. It wasn't that she was gloomy or fatalistic. She was just so relentlessly alive that her presence recalled its opposite, the same way the Peacemakers made life brutally precious by taking so much of it. Their arrival shook Dustbin out of sleep, shifting torpid perceptions wherever they appeared.
Most people trembled under the newfound weight of life. Pamela clung to it, turned it into a support and forced it to bear her along.
---
Those who do not study history
Leo was afraid.
Physical death had never loomed large for him because--as Shannon had pointed out on numerous occasions--he lacked the basic survival instincts, self-awareness, and sense for such a thing. But this was a different kind of fear. He didn't recognize it, exactly, but he thought it might be tied to getting what he had always wanted while suspecting he would end up with nothing.
More than anything, he wanted to go to Pacifica, to see her face and ask if he had heard correctly and wouldn't be making a fool of himself in front of the assembled family, friends, and dignitaries who had gathered for a wedding that may only have existed in Leo's own mind.
But the threat of bad luck (something he really didn't need at this point) hung over his head as much as pre-wedding jitters, so he found himself wandering into the garden instead. The sight of Winia, seated on a white marble bench and running her fingers over the petals of a blown rose, raised his spirits.
She wasn't unlike himself, really. Winia had refused to abandon her dreams of true love, no matter how hopeless the situation had seemed, and she had been right. Leo took it as a sign not to stray from his own path.
He walked over with a smile and asked, "Would you like one?"
"Oh!" Winia looked up in surprise, her hand jerking away from the rosebush as if she'd been caught stealing silver from the drawers. Then her golden eyes softened in recognition, and she shook her head. "No, thank you," she murmured. "It seems a shame."
Leo joined her on the bench, and she moved in a graceful rustle of skirts to accommodate him. Marriage could be as simple as that, he realized with a touch of wonder. Consideration without needing to be asked, the comfort of just being together . . . What had he been afraid of? He settled back with a contented smile and cast a glance around the garden.
"And where is Baron Weihrauch?" he asked good-naturedly.
Later, once Winia had calmed, Leo knocked on Pacifica's door, let himself in, and apologized. Not for canceling the wedding, but for proposing in the first place.
---
Someday I'll hack out this Zeffy drabble that's been poking me in the ribs, but today is not that day.
evey_w's Christmas present, so no touchy. Not that that's really an issue, but. XD;---
Counterpoint
The steam and the murmuring chatter of the bathhouse had a soporific effect, and in his light doze, Fulle found himself estimating the capacity of the tub he was soaking in. He supposed that, by the time he turned twelve years old, he had spilt enough blood to fill it. Over the course of the next year, the amount had doubled. He had never given such things much thought before--the life of a Black Hawk was the only one he'd ever known, and he couldn't see any use in moralizing now.
But Fulle's thoughts had taken a morbid turn lately, ever since he'd found Pamela. It wasn't that she was gloomy or fatalistic. She was just so relentlessly alive that her presence recalled its opposite, the same way the Peacemakers made life brutally precious by taking so much of it. Their arrival shook Dustbin out of sleep, shifting torpid perceptions wherever they appeared.
Most people trembled under the newfound weight of life. Pamela clung to it, turned it into a support and forced it to bear her along.
---
Those who do not study history
Leo was afraid.
Physical death had never loomed large for him because--as Shannon had pointed out on numerous occasions--he lacked the basic survival instincts, self-awareness, and sense for such a thing. But this was a different kind of fear. He didn't recognize it, exactly, but he thought it might be tied to getting what he had always wanted while suspecting he would end up with nothing.
More than anything, he wanted to go to Pacifica, to see her face and ask if he had heard correctly and wouldn't be making a fool of himself in front of the assembled family, friends, and dignitaries who had gathered for a wedding that may only have existed in Leo's own mind.
But the threat of bad luck (something he really didn't need at this point) hung over his head as much as pre-wedding jitters, so he found himself wandering into the garden instead. The sight of Winia, seated on a white marble bench and running her fingers over the petals of a blown rose, raised his spirits.
She wasn't unlike himself, really. Winia had refused to abandon her dreams of true love, no matter how hopeless the situation had seemed, and she had been right. Leo took it as a sign not to stray from his own path.
He walked over with a smile and asked, "Would you like one?"
"Oh!" Winia looked up in surprise, her hand jerking away from the rosebush as if she'd been caught stealing silver from the drawers. Then her golden eyes softened in recognition, and she shook her head. "No, thank you," she murmured. "It seems a shame."
Leo joined her on the bench, and she moved in a graceful rustle of skirts to accommodate him. Marriage could be as simple as that, he realized with a touch of wonder. Consideration without needing to be asked, the comfort of just being together . . . What had he been afraid of? He settled back with a contented smile and cast a glance around the garden.
"And where is Baron Weihrauch?" he asked good-naturedly.
Later, once Winia had calmed, Leo knocked on Pacifica's door, let himself in, and apologized. Not for canceling the wedding, but for proposing in the first place.
---
Someday I'll hack out this Zeffy drabble that's been poking me in the ribs, but today is not that day.
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no subject
Date: 2007-03-23 04:53 am (UTC)She was just so relentlessly alive that her presence recalled its opposite, the same way the Peacemakers made life brutally precious by taking so much of it.
And this drabble captures precisely their bittersweet relationship.
*loves the title of the second drabble*
It feels very in-character for Leo to be insightful about Pacifica's feelings while oblivious (but always well-meaning) about practically everyone else's - even to a certain extent, his own.