storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-10-30 09:14 am
storypaint) wrote2009-10-30 09:14 am
Spring (Presea gen)
Title: Spring
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 727 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days: 25 Oct 09 // Fields of new grasses
Pairing: Clef and Presea gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "Who woke me?" she demanded sleepily. "I'll string you up-- oh, it's you, Guru." Seeming a little embarrassed by her automatic reaction, she sat up quickly. "What do you need?"
He found her lying under a tree, dozing in the shade, and though he'd come to talk business, Clef found himself unwilling to interrupt. Finally, he coughed politely. Presea's eyes flew open.
"Who woke me?" she demanded sleepily. "I'll string you up-- oh, it's you, Guru." Seeming a little embarrassed by her automatic reaction, she sat up quickly. "What do you need?"
Instead of answering right away, the mage stepped through the spring grass, robes whispering as they brushed the blades, and he placed a hand on the tree she was leaning against. He smiled a little.
"Spring," he said. "Everything is happy to be growing."
"You can talk to trees?" Presea asked, wide-eyed, though in retrospect, it wasn't particularly surprising. He talked to animals all the time, after all. If there was something the Supreme Yil couldn't do, she hadn't seen it yet.
"This one is loud," he answered, still smiling a little, as if he had some private joke. Presea smiled back. She brushed her hand along the trunk as she rose to her feet and adjusted her apron. The forge was loud too, in its own way. It strained in the afternoon heat, wanting to be used, but it was too hot to work right now. That is, unless you were Clef, who worked all the time in a set of robes she suspected counted for half of his weight. He was a man whose heart and soul belonged to Cephiro. He probably saw it, she thought, as service, not as work.
"What can I help you with today, Guru?" she asked, as he turned away from the tree to look up at her. It must have been something important for him to come in person. She was seeing less and less of him these days. She wasn't sure what was going on in the palace, and it really wasn't her place to ask, but Clef was busy, and he looked tired.
He adjusted his circlet before answering, attempting but failing to push his bangs out of his eyes. "There is something I need you to keep for me, Pharle," he answered seriously. "The time we have feared has come to pass. When the Magic Knights arrive, there is something you must send with them besides weaponry."
Presea gasped, her hands flying up. The leather of her gloves on her face was familiar, but not comforting. A cold chill settled in her stomach, but Clef just looked at her steadily. He looked determined, not broken, and that fact helped calm her.
"Yes, of course," she answered. He nodded and gestured for her to follow him back up toward her house. He waited for her to get the door (though he could have opened it himself, he was polite), and over tea he explained to her what little he knew and could tell.
"So we must help them," he said, sighing. He paced back and forth in her living room, finally pausing and taking one of her hands in his. "Thank you," he said. The moment was interrupted by the appearance of a white creature in the room.
"Puu!" he said cheerfully. Clef dropped her hands to gesture at the beast.
"Mokona," he explained, his tone a little bemused. Presea had to admit her own confusion-- this animal, the one that was now bouncing across her living furniture-- was supposed to help the legendary Knights?
"Don't get into my study," she warned Mokona sternly, and then smiled back at Clef. "It's not a problem, Guru."
She walked with him to the edge of the forest, leaving Mokona to investigate (though hopefully not destroy) her house. The wind was rising, clearing away the early afternoon heat, and it played through her hair. They'd had an unusually warm spring, she thought, as she bid Clef goodbye, though in the circumstances, that wasn't surprising.
It wasn't until she'd gone back to work, her hands automatically shaping the metal, adjusting a seam, that she thought to wonder why Clef hadn't kept Mokona himself to give to the Knights. After all, he'd meet them, wouldn't he?
The thought made her bite her lip; she finished the repair and began to clear up.
She hoped all of them would see another spring.
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 727 words
Prompt:
31_days: 25 Oct 09 // Fields of new grassesPairing: Clef and Presea gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "Who woke me?" she demanded sleepily. "I'll string you up-- oh, it's you, Guru." Seeming a little embarrassed by her automatic reaction, she sat up quickly. "What do you need?"
He found her lying under a tree, dozing in the shade, and though he'd come to talk business, Clef found himself unwilling to interrupt. Finally, he coughed politely. Presea's eyes flew open.
"Who woke me?" she demanded sleepily. "I'll string you up-- oh, it's you, Guru." Seeming a little embarrassed by her automatic reaction, she sat up quickly. "What do you need?"
Instead of answering right away, the mage stepped through the spring grass, robes whispering as they brushed the blades, and he placed a hand on the tree she was leaning against. He smiled a little.
"Spring," he said. "Everything is happy to be growing."
"You can talk to trees?" Presea asked, wide-eyed, though in retrospect, it wasn't particularly surprising. He talked to animals all the time, after all. If there was something the Supreme Yil couldn't do, she hadn't seen it yet.
"This one is loud," he answered, still smiling a little, as if he had some private joke. Presea smiled back. She brushed her hand along the trunk as she rose to her feet and adjusted her apron. The forge was loud too, in its own way. It strained in the afternoon heat, wanting to be used, but it was too hot to work right now. That is, unless you were Clef, who worked all the time in a set of robes she suspected counted for half of his weight. He was a man whose heart and soul belonged to Cephiro. He probably saw it, she thought, as service, not as work.
"What can I help you with today, Guru?" she asked, as he turned away from the tree to look up at her. It must have been something important for him to come in person. She was seeing less and less of him these days. She wasn't sure what was going on in the palace, and it really wasn't her place to ask, but Clef was busy, and he looked tired.
He adjusted his circlet before answering, attempting but failing to push his bangs out of his eyes. "There is something I need you to keep for me, Pharle," he answered seriously. "The time we have feared has come to pass. When the Magic Knights arrive, there is something you must send with them besides weaponry."
Presea gasped, her hands flying up. The leather of her gloves on her face was familiar, but not comforting. A cold chill settled in her stomach, but Clef just looked at her steadily. He looked determined, not broken, and that fact helped calm her.
"Yes, of course," she answered. He nodded and gestured for her to follow him back up toward her house. He waited for her to get the door (though he could have opened it himself, he was polite), and over tea he explained to her what little he knew and could tell.
"So we must help them," he said, sighing. He paced back and forth in her living room, finally pausing and taking one of her hands in his. "Thank you," he said. The moment was interrupted by the appearance of a white creature in the room.
"Puu!" he said cheerfully. Clef dropped her hands to gesture at the beast.
"Mokona," he explained, his tone a little bemused. Presea had to admit her own confusion-- this animal, the one that was now bouncing across her living furniture-- was supposed to help the legendary Knights?
"Don't get into my study," she warned Mokona sternly, and then smiled back at Clef. "It's not a problem, Guru."
She walked with him to the edge of the forest, leaving Mokona to investigate (though hopefully not destroy) her house. The wind was rising, clearing away the early afternoon heat, and it played through her hair. They'd had an unusually warm spring, she thought, as she bid Clef goodbye, though in the circumstances, that wasn't surprising.
It wasn't until she'd gone back to work, her hands automatically shaping the metal, adjusting a seam, that she thought to wonder why Clef hadn't kept Mokona himself to give to the Knights. After all, he'd meet them, wouldn't he?
The thought made her bite her lip; she finished the repair and began to clear up.
She hoped all of them would see another spring.