Tom (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2013-08-31 12:53 am
serpentine) wrote in rainbowfic2013-08-31 12:53 am
Harvest Gold #11, White Russian #14, Transparent #19: Stitching
Name: Tom (serpentine)
Title: Stitching
Universe:starikov_chronicles
Colors: Harvest Gold #11 - new sweater; White Russian #14 - Хоро́ший това́р сам себя́ хва́лит. (Quality sells itself.); Transparent #19 - East
Supplies and Styles: seed beads
Word Count: 478
Rating: G
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Summary: Marya talks about why mornings are her favorite time of day.
Notes: Written for my lint roller.auguris asked Marya, "What is your favorite time of day?" Marya is Kostya's younger sister by eight years.
My favorite time of the day is mid-morning, when the sun is not too high nor too loud and the world has not gotten too warm yet. It’s when the light is the best, to be honest, especially when it comes to doing detailed sewing work in the garden.
See, my mother was a stitch witch and she always knew where to find the best light. I remember that in the mornings, she would always set herself up in the garden and do her needle world there while she watched over me and my brother.
…I don’t actually remember my mother very well.
She died when I was ten. However, mornings remind me of her, sitting on the stone bench, taking advantage of the sun while her sewing kit sat next to her feet as it overflowed with fabric and brightly colored thread. Usually she would be stitching those vibrant threads into our clothes, creating beautiful designs that I would often look at in awe as young child. My mother had only just begun to teach me the more complicated stitches, being taught the basic ones already, when she fell ill and passed away.
Aunt Sofiya, at the very least, taught those stitches to me later on, along with the magic my mother used with them. However, I still wish that it was her who taught them to me instead of my aunt.
I now spend my mornings in the garden on that very same stone bench, taking advantage of the same light. The magic contained within my stitches are, in my opinion, far more preferable than the flashy sorcery that my brother uses, though as we share the same father, I could likely cast those spells if I wished.
But all that magic seems to do is destroy lives. I’ve seen what it’s done to Kostya. And our aunt told me what it did to our father and the other previous rulers of Vaelan. The stories…are not pretty, to be honest. All of the princes seem to have been strange in one way or another and my brother is no exception.
It also makes them very, very noticeable.
Stitch magic, on the other hand, is quiet and unobtrusive. It is designed to fit into places you would normally overlook and unless you knew what you were looking for, all you would see would be seemingly superficial decorative stitching. But done well, the magic becomes a part of the fabric, changing its very nature, making a dress or shirt something even more.
It is best done in the day, under bright light and that is why, unlike Kostya, who seems to prefer the colder night, that these mornings are the most magical time for me. And in doing that magic, I become closer to my mother, whom I barely had known before the world took her from me.
serpentine)Title: Stitching
Universe:
starikov_chroniclesColors: Harvest Gold #11 - new sweater; White Russian #14 - Хоро́ший това́р сам себя́ хва́лит. (Quality sells itself.); Transparent #19 - East
Supplies and Styles: seed beads
Word Count: 478
Rating: G
Warnings: No standard warnings apply.
Summary: Marya talks about why mornings are her favorite time of day.
Notes: Written for my lint roller.
auguris asked Marya, "What is your favorite time of day?" Marya is Kostya's younger sister by eight years.My favorite time of the day is mid-morning, when the sun is not too high nor too loud and the world has not gotten too warm yet. It’s when the light is the best, to be honest, especially when it comes to doing detailed sewing work in the garden.
See, my mother was a stitch witch and she always knew where to find the best light. I remember that in the mornings, she would always set herself up in the garden and do her needle world there while she watched over me and my brother.
…I don’t actually remember my mother very well.
She died when I was ten. However, mornings remind me of her, sitting on the stone bench, taking advantage of the sun while her sewing kit sat next to her feet as it overflowed with fabric and brightly colored thread. Usually she would be stitching those vibrant threads into our clothes, creating beautiful designs that I would often look at in awe as young child. My mother had only just begun to teach me the more complicated stitches, being taught the basic ones already, when she fell ill and passed away.
Aunt Sofiya, at the very least, taught those stitches to me later on, along with the magic my mother used with them. However, I still wish that it was her who taught them to me instead of my aunt.
I now spend my mornings in the garden on that very same stone bench, taking advantage of the same light. The magic contained within my stitches are, in my opinion, far more preferable than the flashy sorcery that my brother uses, though as we share the same father, I could likely cast those spells if I wished.
But all that magic seems to do is destroy lives. I’ve seen what it’s done to Kostya. And our aunt told me what it did to our father and the other previous rulers of Vaelan. The stories…are not pretty, to be honest. All of the princes seem to have been strange in one way or another and my brother is no exception.
It also makes them very, very noticeable.
Stitch magic, on the other hand, is quiet and unobtrusive. It is designed to fit into places you would normally overlook and unless you knew what you were looking for, all you would see would be seemingly superficial decorative stitching. But done well, the magic becomes a part of the fabric, changing its very nature, making a dress or shirt something even more.
It is best done in the day, under bright light and that is why, unlike Kostya, who seems to prefer the colder night, that these mornings are the most magical time for me. And in doing that magic, I become closer to my mother, whom I barely had known before the world took her from me.
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