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rainbowfic2024-08-19 10:44 pm
shadowsong26) wrote in rainbowfic2024-08-19 10:44 pm
Vert #22
Name: shadowsong26
Story: Truce
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Vert #22. Waiting on the widow's walk
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire 2024 Day Two Second Stage), silhouette, chiaroscuro
Word Count: 334
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Landelye, Tahnrin
Warnings: So it's not exactly incest but uncle and niece do share a boyfriend here, and they are currently separated from him.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Landelye was not pining.
Or, at least, she kept telling herself that, pacing meditatively through the garden, hoping that enough repetition would make it true.
Sefalin had been recalled. That had always been a risk in their liaison, even if she hadn't seriously considered it until the reality crashed in on them. He did serve at the High Priest's pleasure and especially now that--
But she was not pining. She was just--walking. Thinking of him. Drinking in the moonlight, chasing it with a half-formed prayer to the goddess he served.
She paused, hearing familiar footsteps on the path behind her, and turned, wary.
Uncle Tahnrin stood there, a courteous distance away, with a wine glass in either hand.
For a moment, they considered each other, and then he held out both hands, for her to pick a glass.
...ah.
She took two steps to close the distance, picked the one in his right hand, then resumed her meditative path.
He fell into step beside her.
She didn't stop him.
"He'll be back," Tahnrin said softly, after a moment. "He's been recalled, but he'll be back."
The fact that that was far from certain hung in the air between them, unvoiced.
Another moment passed, as they paced and drank in silence.
This time, she was the one to break it. "Thank you, Uncle." For the wine, or the company, or the hope...she wasn't sure.
Perhaps simply for being the one person in the world who understood how she felt right now.
Despite everything.
He inclined his head, a deceptively plain clasp in his hair catching the dim silver light of the waning moon whose goddess's priest was too far away tonight.
In the morning, things would go back to normal. To careful schemes and politics, eyes turned resolutely away from the eastern horizon.
But for tonight, they could set that aside and give each other--and themselves--space to long for their lover, and count the steps and the nights until someday, perhaps, he might return.
Story: Truce
'Verse: Untitled Intrigues Story
Colors: Vert #22. Waiting on the widow's walk
Supplies and Materials: graffiti (Lilith Faire 2024 Day Two Second Stage), silhouette, chiaroscuro
Word Count: 334
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Landelye, Tahnrin
Warnings: So it's not exactly incest but uncle and niece do share a boyfriend here, and they are currently separated from him.
Notes: Constructive criticism welcome, as always.
Landelye was not pining.
Or, at least, she kept telling herself that, pacing meditatively through the garden, hoping that enough repetition would make it true.
Sefalin had been recalled. That had always been a risk in their liaison, even if she hadn't seriously considered it until the reality crashed in on them. He did serve at the High Priest's pleasure and especially now that--
But she was not pining. She was just--walking. Thinking of him. Drinking in the moonlight, chasing it with a half-formed prayer to the goddess he served.
She paused, hearing familiar footsteps on the path behind her, and turned, wary.
Uncle Tahnrin stood there, a courteous distance away, with a wine glass in either hand.
For a moment, they considered each other, and then he held out both hands, for her to pick a glass.
...ah.
She took two steps to close the distance, picked the one in his right hand, then resumed her meditative path.
He fell into step beside her.
She didn't stop him.
"He'll be back," Tahnrin said softly, after a moment. "He's been recalled, but he'll be back."
The fact that that was far from certain hung in the air between them, unvoiced.
Another moment passed, as they paced and drank in silence.
This time, she was the one to break it. "Thank you, Uncle." For the wine, or the company, or the hope...she wasn't sure.
Perhaps simply for being the one person in the world who understood how she felt right now.
Despite everything.
He inclined his head, a deceptively plain clasp in his hair catching the dim silver light of the waning moon whose goddess's priest was too far away tonight.
In the morning, things would go back to normal. To careful schemes and politics, eyes turned resolutely away from the eastern horizon.
But for tonight, they could set that aside and give each other--and themselves--space to long for their lover, and count the steps and the nights until someday, perhaps, he might return.
no subject
Yeah. Del does have fond memories of her uncle from when she was little, and they do both genuinely love Sef and can bond over that? It doesn't change anything, it's not enough for that, but it is there, underneath.