spank that new years baby

[moonsheen]

Ah, guess I'm a day late for the BIG UNMASKING? Oh well. HARK! TIS I who wrote yuletide story Gerda and the Snow Queen for ave_eva. Which is rough in places that still make me wince, but overall I'm pretty happy with how it turned out and glad that my recipient enjoyed. ♥

Meanwhile, because my f-list is doing it and I wanna be one of the cool kids: New Years Request Meme. Standard flavor this time. You know how this goes: name a fandom/pairing/characters and I write you a story of dubious drabble status to the best of my ability provided said request does not destroy my brain.

Comments

[moonsheen.livejournal.com]

Set after the Piscodaemon mark and yeah, Basch was totally my party leader for that one...


By the purpling of twilight, the smoke was gone from over the camps. It was a good sign, perhaps, although overall morale was still low, and the mourning priests still gathered outside the steps of the temple. Bur-Omisace yet cried, even if the skies no longer did. Basch fon Ronsenberg knelt by the wall and laid his back against stone painted a soft rose—which was better than red. He stretched out one leg. He had had a hot pole jabbed into it once, during his imprisonment. The cold reminded him of the injury, though the scar from it was now barely a faint white half moon on his thigh. He sat next to the acolyte, whose whiskers swayed in the wind. The nu mou glanced at him, small wise eyes curious.

“You come back alone,” said Ivaness, coming near.

“We have been short on supply, and our equipment grows worn,” said the former captain, “Giruvegan may have taken its toll. But also, I had wished to speak with you again before our leaving.”

“So your wish has been granted.”

“So it has. And may those better find theirs in such times.” Basch breathed in the crisp air of the mountains, he breathed it out. It wisped slightly, and then broke apart. “It was I who landed the killing blow.”

The nu mou’s tail ceased its constant rhythms upon the stones. “Ah,” said Ivaness, slowly. His face was unreadable, nostrils giving a slight flair in the way his people did when they were troubled by something. Basch stared steadily off into the skies. “You have felt…that you owed it to me, to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Then bear no guilt. My thanks, and my brother’s, remains the same.”

The knight closed his eyes in silent gratitude, profile darkened. The sun had slipped below the horizon and only the memory of light remained in the sky, still gleaming off of the peaks. “You were close, once?” he asked, all at once, and so like a child, that Ivaness could take no offense at the abrupt nature of it. He merely nodded in some consideration, whiskers drifting, feather-light.

“Once,” the words came from a place farther than the rift below. “We were all that each other knew. It was a very long ago. I had not thought of it in some time, although as he now rests…I have come to remember, yes.”

“As have I,” said Basch, quietly, “I think of him often in these days. Though he does not rest, and I know nothing of how he suffers for it.”

The nu mou bent his head. “I see now.” He made the sign of the rood across his chest. “May the light be yet of some guidance. So that your peace may not be as long coming as ours has been.”

“I pray,” said Basch.

[akatonbo.livejournal.com]

Thank you! <3