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rainbowfic2024-03-26 08:50 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2024-03-26 08:50 pm
Vert #7; Azul #21 [Starfall]
Name: Dancing Attendance
Story: Starfall
Colors: Vert #7 (Devotion); Azul #21 (Dedicated)
Supplies and Styles: Resin (forno_true_pair) + Giftwrap + Novelty Beads (from 11 Years, September Secrets - try it)
Word Count: 1256
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313; Leion Valerno, Viyony Eseray. Written forno_true_pair's March 2024 mini-round, for March 26th's prompt: "1 [Leion Valerno] & 2 [Viyony Eseray] - bad jokes."
Summary: This is getting past a joke...
Daybird 25, Maralon 2
"You're punishing me for helping you," said Leion, striding alongside Viyony up the road. "I had to dance with the High Governor just to get you a look around the inner chambers—a nerve-wracking experience, I can tell you—and now this!"
Viyony lowered her head, hiding her face from him. "And I am grateful, but all I said was, if it's an eighth-day, I have to make my devotions first. So should you anyway!"
"I didn't know Portcallan even had a Maralonian shrine."
Viyony shook her head. "You don't have Maralonian shrines. You must know that."
"Oh, so we're going to the beacon site," Leion said. "I did wonder why were heading all the way out here. And why, I ask again? At this hour! At this time of the year!"
"Come on, or we shall be late."
Leion stopped in half-hearted protest, letting her march on ahead for a few steps, before following. "I don't know why I put up with you." He pulled his overcoat in closer. "I don't see how they plan to light a fire in this weather anyway."
"They make special arrangements with Shara's attendants to keep the rain off."
"Ha, ha."
They were late by the time they reached the grassy stretch of coastland above the city. The Maralonian priest was already halfway through reading out the set words of the ceremony, shouting to be heard against the sea gale. The rain had slowed, but it was still spotting. Despite Leion's predictions, the priest had already lit the beacon.
"Let the old burn and make way for the new to rise from the ashes," said the priest while his dark green robes flapped wildly about him.
Leion leant close to Viyony. "He'll set himself alight if he doesn't watch out."
"Shh," she said, staring fixedly ahead at the fire.
Leion pulled a face, and gave his attention to the priest. He had been exaggerating his ignorance earlier to Viyony, but it had been longer than he cared to reckon since he had attended any of the eighth-day devotions outside of Midwinter. If Maralonian observances meant standing beside the cliff edge in damp weather, he didn't want to do it again in a hurry.
The priest finished speaking and knelt down before the fire to light his torch. Leion cast a sidelong glance at Viyony. She had her head bowed and eyes closed. He turned his gaze back to the beacon. There was a fiddler playing off to the side of it. He hadn't noticed her before. The wind kept stealing the notes and carrying them out to sea, rendering the music only audible in rare snatches.
He sobered, and followed Viyony's example, lowering his head, asking himself which aspects of the past he'd like to consign to ashes. It wasn't much of a contest. The affair with Atino, brought back into the forefront of his mind by Viyony's arrival and Eollan Barra's return to the capital, was something he would love to cast into the flames; let the whole thing shrivel up and burn.
Many of the attendees had come prepared with wooden tokens to throw onto the fire, and formed an orderly line to do so. Leion and Viyony had not, so they joined the ranks of the disorganised, moving slowly past the booth selling tokens. They came in set symbols—hearts, wooden coins, blank squares, shields, butterflies, flowers, little globes—and each person chose the most appropriate, or took the blank squares if nothing else suited. Leion eyed up the selection and then reached for a blank square at the same moment as Viyony. He grinned; she laughed.
Having paid their solers, they joined the queue for the fire.
"It's not like this at home," said Viyony as they edged their way nearer at a shuffling but steady rate.
"I bet it isn't." Viyony lived halfway up a mountain in an isolated corner of the wettest District in Emoyra. There wouldn't have been all these people or stalls. Probably no Maralonian priest to hand, either.
They reached the beacon, its fierce blaze welcome against the chilly wind. Leion waited in silence while Viyony threw her token into its heart, and then stepped forward to do the same.
Some people went on from there to line up and consult the priest, but they headed away, back to the city. Leion halted at another set of stalls, where they were selling roasted food, and bought a helping of elquid and little potatoes, wrapped in a folded square of waxed paper. ("Cooked in the beacon flames," the seller assured him. Presumably that made them lucky eating or some other absurd idea.) Leion steered Viyony away towards the road, and held out the food to her.
"That's it now—yes?" he said.
"Unless you want to speak to the priest." Viyony bit her lip, and then poked at the hot food, frowning. "What is this?"
"Sea creature," said Leion. "Local delicacy. After making me go through that, you deserve it."
She shot him a look, her gaze narrowing. "So, is that good or bad?"
"Try it and see." He helped himself to a handful, while she picked out the elquid, wrinkling her nose. He watched as she finally took a bite. "What do you think?"
She nodded, her mouth too full for speaking. "Not bad," she said, once she could. She cast a sudden look at him, then turned away, biting her lip.
"What?" he asked.
"It's just—I'm sorry! Leion, when I said I'd only go with you to the High Chambers today if you came to the ceremony with me, that was a joke!"
Leion turned, halting sharply. He stepped off off the road, out of the way of the departing crowd, and tugged her onto the grass. "A joke?"
"Yes!"
"Well, it sounded like yet another of your unreasonable demands to me. How am I supposed to tell the difference?"
"I should have said," Viyony confessed. She put her hand to her mouth, coughing as she fought laughter. "But—you agreed straight away! I was curious to see if you really would go through with it—and you did."
"I suppose, at this stage in our relationship, I've learned to salute and say, yes, Imor, every time you give an order."
"That isn't funny," said Viyony. The amused gleam in her eyes faded away.
"What if I was calling your bluff? Who's the joke on, then?"
"Were you?"
He shook his head, and dedicated his attention to finishing off the food before it went cold. "No."
"I am sorry," said Viyony. Then she raised her head. "No, actually, I'm not. I thought it was nice. You didn't really mind, did you?"
Leion took her arm as they resumed a leisurely walk back to Portcallan, pulled along by the tide of people all heading in the same direction. "It was nice," he agreed. "Superstitious nonsense, of course, but traditional and all that, so why not?"
"Good," said Viyony. "We should go to all of the others. I'm extremely curious to see how different they all are here. At home we have to lead them ourselves most of the time. It's nothing like this."
"I'm not falling for that twice," said Leion. "Although—what if I ruin the joke by taking you at face value again?"
"I think that might be quite nice, too."
"Why not?" he said, and watched her laugh.
If this was a joke, he didn't want to think about how bad the punchline was going to be.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Vert #7 (Devotion); Azul #21 (Dedicated)
Supplies and Styles: Resin (for
no_true_pair) + Giftwrap + Novelty Beads (from 11 Years, September Secrets - try it)Word Count: 1256
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: Portcallan, 1313; Leion Valerno, Viyony Eseray. Written for
no_true_pair's March 2024 mini-round, for March 26th's prompt: "1 [Leion Valerno] & 2 [Viyony Eseray] - bad jokes." Summary: This is getting past a joke...
Daybird 25, Maralon 2
"You're punishing me for helping you," said Leion, striding alongside Viyony up the road. "I had to dance with the High Governor just to get you a look around the inner chambers—a nerve-wracking experience, I can tell you—and now this!"
Viyony lowered her head, hiding her face from him. "And I am grateful, but all I said was, if it's an eighth-day, I have to make my devotions first. So should you anyway!"
"I didn't know Portcallan even had a Maralonian shrine."
Viyony shook her head. "You don't have Maralonian shrines. You must know that."
"Oh, so we're going to the beacon site," Leion said. "I did wonder why were heading all the way out here. And why, I ask again? At this hour! At this time of the year!"
"Come on, or we shall be late."
Leion stopped in half-hearted protest, letting her march on ahead for a few steps, before following. "I don't know why I put up with you." He pulled his overcoat in closer. "I don't see how they plan to light a fire in this weather anyway."
"They make special arrangements with Shara's attendants to keep the rain off."
"Ha, ha."
They were late by the time they reached the grassy stretch of coastland above the city. The Maralonian priest was already halfway through reading out the set words of the ceremony, shouting to be heard against the sea gale. The rain had slowed, but it was still spotting. Despite Leion's predictions, the priest had already lit the beacon.
"Let the old burn and make way for the new to rise from the ashes," said the priest while his dark green robes flapped wildly about him.
Leion leant close to Viyony. "He'll set himself alight if he doesn't watch out."
"Shh," she said, staring fixedly ahead at the fire.
Leion pulled a face, and gave his attention to the priest. He had been exaggerating his ignorance earlier to Viyony, but it had been longer than he cared to reckon since he had attended any of the eighth-day devotions outside of Midwinter. If Maralonian observances meant standing beside the cliff edge in damp weather, he didn't want to do it again in a hurry.
The priest finished speaking and knelt down before the fire to light his torch. Leion cast a sidelong glance at Viyony. She had her head bowed and eyes closed. He turned his gaze back to the beacon. There was a fiddler playing off to the side of it. He hadn't noticed her before. The wind kept stealing the notes and carrying them out to sea, rendering the music only audible in rare snatches.
He sobered, and followed Viyony's example, lowering his head, asking himself which aspects of the past he'd like to consign to ashes. It wasn't much of a contest. The affair with Atino, brought back into the forefront of his mind by Viyony's arrival and Eollan Barra's return to the capital, was something he would love to cast into the flames; let the whole thing shrivel up and burn.
Many of the attendees had come prepared with wooden tokens to throw onto the fire, and formed an orderly line to do so. Leion and Viyony had not, so they joined the ranks of the disorganised, moving slowly past the booth selling tokens. They came in set symbols—hearts, wooden coins, blank squares, shields, butterflies, flowers, little globes—and each person chose the most appropriate, or took the blank squares if nothing else suited. Leion eyed up the selection and then reached for a blank square at the same moment as Viyony. He grinned; she laughed.
Having paid their solers, they joined the queue for the fire.
"It's not like this at home," said Viyony as they edged their way nearer at a shuffling but steady rate.
"I bet it isn't." Viyony lived halfway up a mountain in an isolated corner of the wettest District in Emoyra. There wouldn't have been all these people or stalls. Probably no Maralonian priest to hand, either.
They reached the beacon, its fierce blaze welcome against the chilly wind. Leion waited in silence while Viyony threw her token into its heart, and then stepped forward to do the same.
Some people went on from there to line up and consult the priest, but they headed away, back to the city. Leion halted at another set of stalls, where they were selling roasted food, and bought a helping of elquid and little potatoes, wrapped in a folded square of waxed paper. ("Cooked in the beacon flames," the seller assured him. Presumably that made them lucky eating or some other absurd idea.) Leion steered Viyony away towards the road, and held out the food to her.
"That's it now—yes?" he said.
"Unless you want to speak to the priest." Viyony bit her lip, and then poked at the hot food, frowning. "What is this?"
"Sea creature," said Leion. "Local delicacy. After making me go through that, you deserve it."
She shot him a look, her gaze narrowing. "So, is that good or bad?"
"Try it and see." He helped himself to a handful, while she picked out the elquid, wrinkling her nose. He watched as she finally took a bite. "What do you think?"
She nodded, her mouth too full for speaking. "Not bad," she said, once she could. She cast a sudden look at him, then turned away, biting her lip.
"What?" he asked.
"It's just—I'm sorry! Leion, when I said I'd only go with you to the High Chambers today if you came to the ceremony with me, that was a joke!"
Leion turned, halting sharply. He stepped off off the road, out of the way of the departing crowd, and tugged her onto the grass. "A joke?"
"Yes!"
"Well, it sounded like yet another of your unreasonable demands to me. How am I supposed to tell the difference?"
"I should have said," Viyony confessed. She put her hand to her mouth, coughing as she fought laughter. "But—you agreed straight away! I was curious to see if you really would go through with it—and you did."
"I suppose, at this stage in our relationship, I've learned to salute and say, yes, Imor, every time you give an order."
"That isn't funny," said Viyony. The amused gleam in her eyes faded away.
"What if I was calling your bluff? Who's the joke on, then?"
"Were you?"
He shook his head, and dedicated his attention to finishing off the food before it went cold. "No."
"I am sorry," said Viyony. Then she raised her head. "No, actually, I'm not. I thought it was nice. You didn't really mind, did you?"
Leion took her arm as they resumed a leisurely walk back to Portcallan, pulled along by the tide of people all heading in the same direction. "It was nice," he agreed. "Superstitious nonsense, of course, but traditional and all that, so why not?"
"Good," said Viyony. "We should go to all of the others. I'm extremely curious to see how different they all are here. At home we have to lead them ourselves most of the time. It's nothing like this."
"I'm not falling for that twice," said Leion. "Although—what if I ruin the joke by taking you at face value again?"
"I think that might be quite nice, too."
"Why not?" he said, and watched her laugh.
If this was a joke, he didn't want to think about how bad the punchline was going to be.
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That's good: like tashlikh with fire.
If this was a joke, he didn't want to think about how bad the punchline was going to be.
That's differently but also very good.
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I loved this description of the tokens!
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