storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2010-11-12 11:59 pm
storypaint) wrote2010-11-12 11:59 pm
[Magic Knight Rayearth] cultural interludes (Clef/Presea)
Title: cultural interludes
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 3441 words
Prompt: n/a
Pairing: Clef/Presea
Other: Written for the lovely![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
chibidl for our first anniversary. ♥ PG-13 for sexual implications.
Excerpt: There were opening of the year ceremonies all across Cephiro on the first day of spring, but as the official Pharle, Presea was always invited to the one at the palace. She never missed; it was one of her favorites. Opening the year always felt like waking from a satisfying nap. The country had rested over the winter, and now it was ready to start moving again. The thought always filled her with energy and excitement. It was time to work again, time for making new and fixing old.
spring; five years pre-canon
There were opening of the year ceremonies all across Cephiro on the first day of spring, but as the official Pharle, Presea was always invited to the one at the palace. She never missed; it was one of her favorites. Opening the year always felt like waking from a satisfying nap. The country had rested over the winter, and now it was ready to start moving again. The thought always filled her with energy and excitement. It was time to work again, time for making new and fixing old.
She put on her nice dress for the first time since fall and arrived in plenty of time for the ceremony, managing to catch Clef's eye and smile in reassurance. Spring was the busiest season for the Pillar, who had to start everything growing again, and so it was also his busiest. The regular visits he made to take tea and talk about books had stopped off a couple of weeks ago as he got caught up in preparations. They'd both spend the next few months absorbed in their own pursuits with little time for socializing.
Clef looked a little harried, but Emeraude pushed her ceremonial spade into the ground and said her prayers without incident. Everyone sang the common response as the seed she'd shallowly buried sprouted. The green leaves looked healthy and full of promise. Presea's heart was warm. She thought she could feel the temperature rising around her, even though it would be much more subtle than that.
The meal and dance that followed showed the cheer in everyone's spirits, certainly. Presea watched from the sidelines primarily as the couples whirled barefoot across the ground. Traditionally one asked one's intended to the spring ceremony, and the group was full of young couples who would be married before summer was out, their gazes focused softly on each other, not seeing anyone else. Presea always thought it was sweet to see.
She didn't lack for companionship, of course. Ferio had been dragged from the forest, cleaned and pushed into formalwear, and he seemed to think that the best way to survive yet another official occasion was to talk about swords with the Pharle. And there were others, swords-wielders or not, whom she wanted to speak with, to say hi and inquire after their health and happiness.
She didn't realize she was looking for him until he approached and she didn't have to glance up again to see who was speaking to her. Clef smiled, and she was glad to see it was genuine. The worry had bled from him and he was quietly pleased as usual.
Her heart caught up in spring's joy, she said, "Would you like to dance with me?" She offered her hand, and though he blinked in surprise, he gave his.
It wasn't as if they never danced together, being both friends and officials of the country, but it was more likely for Clef, if he danced at all, to do so with Emeraude, simply for ease of logistics. And it was true that Presea and Clef had to modify some of the steps and positions, but Presea didn't mind. She liked having his small hands warm in hers or cupping her hip.
The earth was warm beneath her feet and her dress, carefully pinned up so it didn't drag the dirt, still swished softly as they moved together. They spoke a little, talking about plans for the year and friends, new and old. She made him laugh once with a silly observation, and he promised to lend her a new book he'd acquired when he had the time to find it.
And finally they broke apart with a shared smile and the squeeze of hands. Presea almost followed after him, asked him to dance the slow dance that ended the night, but she didn't quite have the courage. Perhaps, she thought, another spring. She could still feel his fingers warm on her hip, long after she went home.
*
summer; mkr 1.5
It was a very hot summer. The weather, always so well-regulated by the Pillar, was now allowed free reign to behave as it pleased, and it was apparently pleased to present them with two weeks straight of bright, cloudless skies and a thick heat that lay heavily on the shoulders of everyone. Presea wasn't terribly bothered by it, used to the heat of the forge, but she was also used to taking breaks whenever she became uncomfortable; there was no way to take a break from this. Even at night, the temperature barely dropped, or with the wind, became almost unbearably cold.
She knew that Clef had to be even more uncomfortable than she was; even his traveling clothes were bulky and full, disguising his small shape. He'd been reluctant to remove even the top layers, but had consented to the pull of the heat after a while. There was no shade on Fyula, after all, and though the mages they visited offered hospitality most of the time, there was still plenty of time they spent in transit, the hot wind of their passage unsettling their hair and windburning their faces. Clef had brought along a jar of a sun protection concoction and reapplied it frequently, and he insisted that Presea do the same. Even still, their skin was dry and she was tanning a little.
She was lying flat on her stomach, half-dozing in the heat and looking over the edge of the fish when she saw the brilliant reflection of the lake beneath them. And then she turned around to glance at her companion, who was frowning at a chart in his hand and sweating under his collar.
"Let's go for a swim," she called to him.
Clef looked up, eyes unfocused for a moment. It had been the better part of an hour since they'd spoken and she wondered if he'd been concentrating so hard that he'd forgotten she was here.
"Let's do what?"
She scrambled to the front of the fish and directed Fyula toward the small body of water before Clef could protest. He stood and followed her curiously.
"What are you doing? Did you need a break?"
He usually waited for her to remind him that they'd been flying for long enough that dinner and making camp was necessary. She wasn't sure how he'd managed not to work himself to death previously, if she was honest.
"Let's go swimming," she said breathlessly, pushing her damp bangs out of her eyes. "That's what you do when it's too hot in the summer, right?"
"We do have somewhere to be," he began hesitantly, but she was already unfastening her Pharle circlet and stowing it carefully in her bag. Fyula continued to descend as Presea let her hair down and began to pluck at her remaining layers of clothing.
In the heat, it was difficult to see his blush, but it was there. Although they'd been camping for weeks now, and he'd seen her in all kinds of dishabille and had caused some of them himself, a blush was still his first response to her nudity. She thought it was sweet, and strangely innocent for someone who'd lived so long.
"You said we weren't going to arrive until tomorrow, and it isn't as if she's expecting us. I think we can borrow a couple of hours."
Fyula reached her landing height and hovered. Presea offered Clef a hand. She could smell the lake and itched to be in it, to let the cool water soothe her skin. She practically dragged him down to the shore and waded in, stripping as she did and throwing her remaining garments to shore.
He gaped, but she finally reached a comfortable depth and splashed backwards into the water. When she came up, dripping and grinning, she knew his body was responding to the sight.
"Come on! It's actually cool in here."
Without waiting for an answer she came back and pulled him in after her. Her hands crept up underneath his shirt and she helped him pull it off, but she let him keep his pants. She was pretty sure he wouldn't quite be comfortable with skinnydipping.
He didn't seem to mind the water fight that ensued when she began splashing him, though. Full of energy brought out of relieved heat, they played in the lake for quite a while, enjoying the water and the break from duties. Even Fyula joined in.
And when the play turned to teasing, and the teasing to flirting, and the flirting to making an early camp, no one minded. They woke in the morning, sticky but refreshed, and had quick baths before climbing back onto the fish.
The summer sun was still hot, but a wind was rising, and it propelled them forward on their quest, to the hopes of another harvest season.
*
autumn; ten years post-canon
The Bassara were camped not ten miles from Presea's house and she spent most of the afternoon with them on the day of the harvest festival. They came every three years or so to the village near their former daughter's home, and she always took some time to visit. There were new babies to admire, news to hear, weapons to repair. And Presea wasn't quite as lost from their culture as many were. She was unmarried and independent, and still able to speak their dialect. She endured their good-natured ribbing about settling down in one place among those of the Pillar culture, and listened to new stories and tales of her aunts and cousins and sisters.
In payment for her Pharle services, since the Bassara rarely bartered with common coin, she received a warm leather cloak in a child's size. That prompted more questions and teasing, but she refused to talk much about it. They were a nomadic people who had romance on the move, or among themselves, or not at all. But it was turning toward fall now, and Presea had aims toward a restful winter with someone who'd probably not bought a new cloak in decades, if one judged by the antiquated style of his current one.
She left her sisters a few hours before dark, returning home for her own lightweight cloak before walking the trail to the palace. The birds called cheerfully through the trees and the wind rustled in a contented way through the leaves, which were just beginning to golden. The will of the people had healed this land quickly. It would be a good harvest.
Most of the festival preparations had been conducted over the previous month (which is why Presea felt okay with taking the afternoon off). In fact, she'd hardly seen her own bed these last couple of weeks, working by candlelight until the yawns became too frequent and she'd convinced Clef to steal a few hours of sleep before the dawn.
She knew it was worth it, though. She'd hardly hung up her cloak and tucked away Clef's gift (to be presented in the morning) before the Knights had found her, gaily bedecked in traditional dress and looking quite like native Cephirans. When she told them so, they seemed pleased by the compliment. They had news, as usual - Umi was nearly ready to become a master of lawyering (it had been a long apprenticeship, Presea thought); Fuu's parents were grudgingly approving of the picture of Fuu's mysterious but devoted long-distance suitor; and Hikaru had finally, and just in time, mastered the steps to the dance the three girls would be leading tonight (it changed every year, much to her dismay).
She let their chatter flow around her as they made their way to the receiving room, a gigantic chamber which had formerly served as the throne room before being repurposed to special occasions and political meetings. Hikaru led the group as they greeted everyone; her memory for names and personal details still amazed them all.
But even more than spring, the autumn festival was about couples, about harvest and bounty and a celebration of a good summer. It wasn't long before the girls found their boyfriends and Presea was left alone. She knew where hers was, of course: in his office with the door locked, enjoying a few last minutes of silence, or more likely, dozing. He'd arrive before the official ceremonies started.
"Pharle Presea, sugar, why do you look so lost?" someone asked, and before she could protest that she wasn't lost (except perhaps in thought), she was grabbed and hugged forcibly around the middle by the spitfire cheer of Caldina. She met Caldina's grin with a smile of her own, but the dancer wasn't dissuaded.
"I may not have been born here but I know that by this time you're supposed to have found your man. Where's the short and scowling one? You wear him out this afternoon?"
Lafarga had been trailing his wife obediently. At her words, a blush rose to his face that the paint couldn't really disguise. Presea knew there was a matching one on hers; she disentangled herself from Caldina and shook her head.
"He'll be here. He had things to do."
"Sure, sure," Caldina began, but Presea's gaze slipped past her, and down, her look fond, and Caldina turned to see Guru Clef behind her.
"Speak of the mouseowl and there he is!" she declared.
"Did you need me for something?" he asked, but Caldina shook her head and Presea stepped forward to take his hands in hers, smiling.
"Well, I knew that you would," he said to her, smiling faintly back. She squeezed his hands. Caldina chuckled and said something about the way they still acted like new lovers, but neither were paying attention, and Presea was only barely aware of it when Lafarga allowed a small smile onto his face and convinced his wife to come away with him.
The Knights - and maybe they hadn't been Knights for years now, but that was always the way Presea would see them in her mind, their Magic Knights, their rescuers and breakers - led the first dance, and as Clef watched beside her, he had a certain focused look in his eyes that Presea knew. He was thinking about Emeraude, and perhaps the Pillars before her, the hours spent observing her practices and being her partner. The Pillar never had a lover to dance with, of course, and most tended to choose a partner from the nearby village; they had once held contests for the privilege. Emeraude had usually chosen to dance with the man who'd raised her, laughing and saying that none of the local twelve-year-olds could stamp half as well.
Presea leaned closer to him just a little, brushing their arms together in wordless comfort. He leaned into the touch and they carved out their own little island of silence, at least temporarily. It wasn't long before Umi and Fuu and Hikaru arrived to kiss their cheeks and thereby draw them onto the floor; soon everyone was flushed with exertion and excitement.
But this was a festival that people were expected to sneak away from, and they did, two by two. Clef and Presea disappeared sometime after midnight, drunk on kisses and pausing on occasion to share more, a show of affection that they rarely indulged in outside their quarters. They weren't the only ones tonight, though, and no one thought to blink. They'd hardly shut the door to Clef's rooms before Presea was pressed back against it, his hands climbing her thighs.
Some time after, pleased and spent, they lay cuddling in bed, half-dozing contentedly. Presea was curled around Clef, hands tangled in his, and she pressed a kiss to his earlobe and said, "Do you want to get married?"
He hesitated for a moment before replying, though he didn't pull away. "Would you be offended if I asked why?"
"I've been thinking about it for a while," she answered, her tone contemplative. She was silent for a moment. "It's not that I want to have children. An apprentice will be enough. And we spend most nights together at your place or mine. No one else is trying to court you."
"Mm," he said, shifting around so he could meet her eyes. She looked at him, smiling softly.
"Just to call you my husband, I think," she said. "To tell everyone that I plan to love you and be with you until death separates us. Because I want to."
"I see," he answered. He brushed a stray hair from her face and smiled a little. "Well, that sounds like a very good reason to me."
They were married in a small ceremony before fall gave way to winter, greeting the crisp air of the dawn together, hand in hand. It didn't change them much; their relationship was as steady as their individual persons. But sometimes he would look at her with a vague amazement in his eyes, as if fascinated with his good fortune, and it was a look she returned with the same wonder. It was more than worth it.
*
winter; twenty years post-canon
There was no ceremony to mark the beginning of winter, just the slow drift of temperature and the brightening of the moon. Presea always marked it as the day that her husband came home for the season and stayed. She was in the yard when he came home, cloak pulled tight around him, his breath a warm halo in the air. She had been raking leaves, but she leaned the rake against the tree for a moment to greet him and brush a hand through his hair under his hood. He leaned up into the touch, smiling.
It was strange for him to come back unaccompanied by his apprentice, and when Presea looked around, expecting to see the girl come into the clearing, Clef answered her unasked question.
"I gave her the winter off. Her first free act was to insist on staying over a few days with the princess." Ferio and Fuu's daughter had inherited her father's love for adventure and her mother's quirkiness; Clef's apprentice was her constant follower when she could find time to sneak away from lessons.
"So it's Ferio's problem when they explode something," Presea said.
"Exactly," Clef said, sounding quite contented with the thought. He patted her hand and then made his way toward the house. Raking had kept Presea warm, but now wasn't a bad time to go indoors. She went back for the rake and when she came in, Clef was already making tea and warming the kitchen.
Her apprentice had gone back to his hometown, courting, she told Clef. He was nearly done with his training, and in any case, the Pharle often took a winter vacation too. Nowadays.
"Convenient," he said, amusement in his voice. She grinned at him.
"I didn't see anything wrong with the idea. Might as well take advantage of this weather," she said.
"It may snow next week," he said. "I'm not sure there's much to be taken advantage of."
"Well, there's you," she said matter-of-factly, enjoying his blush, "but cold weather can be nice too. How long has it been since you made a snowman?"
He pondered the question. "Last year I believe you made me." He seemed amused by the memory. The other three had teamed up against him and talked him into contributing a cloak for the snowman to wear, despite his insistence that snowpeople most likely preferred being cold. They'd had a snowball fight that had ultimately led to a nasty winter cold that had taken Presea some time to shake. That afternoon had been the wettest, coldest, and best time they'd had, though.
"Well, it's about time for a new one," she said.
"I'm not sure I can doom another snowman to such a short existence," he said, mock-seriously. "The children took his head off the next morning, if I recall."
"Well, they're not here to execute this one," she said. She'd poured herself a cup of tea, but she set it on the counter and came to him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead and then his mouth. "It's just us," she said, smiling at him.
"An opportunity to catch up on my reading, then!" he said, still teasing, and squeaked in surprise when she took his tea from him and kissed him more thoroughly.
"You can read in bed," she purred, pulling him after her toward their room. More than twenty years together, and she was as giddy as if it were the first time. It was nice not having to consider anyone else but themselves for a little while, if she could let herself be so selfish.
The tea on the counter grew cold; outside, it began to snow. Inside, where it mattered, love was warm and happy.
Fandom: Magic Knight Rayearth
Length: 3441 words
Prompt: n/a
Pairing: Clef/Presea
Other: Written for the lovely
chibidl for our first anniversary. ♥ PG-13 for sexual implications.Excerpt: There were opening of the year ceremonies all across Cephiro on the first day of spring, but as the official Pharle, Presea was always invited to the one at the palace. She never missed; it was one of her favorites. Opening the year always felt like waking from a satisfying nap. The country had rested over the winter, and now it was ready to start moving again. The thought always filled her with energy and excitement. It was time to work again, time for making new and fixing old.
spring; five years pre-canon
There were opening of the year ceremonies all across Cephiro on the first day of spring, but as the official Pharle, Presea was always invited to the one at the palace. She never missed; it was one of her favorites. Opening the year always felt like waking from a satisfying nap. The country had rested over the winter, and now it was ready to start moving again. The thought always filled her with energy and excitement. It was time to work again, time for making new and fixing old.
She put on her nice dress for the first time since fall and arrived in plenty of time for the ceremony, managing to catch Clef's eye and smile in reassurance. Spring was the busiest season for the Pillar, who had to start everything growing again, and so it was also his busiest. The regular visits he made to take tea and talk about books had stopped off a couple of weeks ago as he got caught up in preparations. They'd both spend the next few months absorbed in their own pursuits with little time for socializing.
Clef looked a little harried, but Emeraude pushed her ceremonial spade into the ground and said her prayers without incident. Everyone sang the common response as the seed she'd shallowly buried sprouted. The green leaves looked healthy and full of promise. Presea's heart was warm. She thought she could feel the temperature rising around her, even though it would be much more subtle than that.
The meal and dance that followed showed the cheer in everyone's spirits, certainly. Presea watched from the sidelines primarily as the couples whirled barefoot across the ground. Traditionally one asked one's intended to the spring ceremony, and the group was full of young couples who would be married before summer was out, their gazes focused softly on each other, not seeing anyone else. Presea always thought it was sweet to see.
She didn't lack for companionship, of course. Ferio had been dragged from the forest, cleaned and pushed into formalwear, and he seemed to think that the best way to survive yet another official occasion was to talk about swords with the Pharle. And there were others, swords-wielders or not, whom she wanted to speak with, to say hi and inquire after their health and happiness.
She didn't realize she was looking for him until he approached and she didn't have to glance up again to see who was speaking to her. Clef smiled, and she was glad to see it was genuine. The worry had bled from him and he was quietly pleased as usual.
Her heart caught up in spring's joy, she said, "Would you like to dance with me?" She offered her hand, and though he blinked in surprise, he gave his.
It wasn't as if they never danced together, being both friends and officials of the country, but it was more likely for Clef, if he danced at all, to do so with Emeraude, simply for ease of logistics. And it was true that Presea and Clef had to modify some of the steps and positions, but Presea didn't mind. She liked having his small hands warm in hers or cupping her hip.
The earth was warm beneath her feet and her dress, carefully pinned up so it didn't drag the dirt, still swished softly as they moved together. They spoke a little, talking about plans for the year and friends, new and old. She made him laugh once with a silly observation, and he promised to lend her a new book he'd acquired when he had the time to find it.
And finally they broke apart with a shared smile and the squeeze of hands. Presea almost followed after him, asked him to dance the slow dance that ended the night, but she didn't quite have the courage. Perhaps, she thought, another spring. She could still feel his fingers warm on her hip, long after she went home.
*
summer; mkr 1.5
It was a very hot summer. The weather, always so well-regulated by the Pillar, was now allowed free reign to behave as it pleased, and it was apparently pleased to present them with two weeks straight of bright, cloudless skies and a thick heat that lay heavily on the shoulders of everyone. Presea wasn't terribly bothered by it, used to the heat of the forge, but she was also used to taking breaks whenever she became uncomfortable; there was no way to take a break from this. Even at night, the temperature barely dropped, or with the wind, became almost unbearably cold.
She knew that Clef had to be even more uncomfortable than she was; even his traveling clothes were bulky and full, disguising his small shape. He'd been reluctant to remove even the top layers, but had consented to the pull of the heat after a while. There was no shade on Fyula, after all, and though the mages they visited offered hospitality most of the time, there was still plenty of time they spent in transit, the hot wind of their passage unsettling their hair and windburning their faces. Clef had brought along a jar of a sun protection concoction and reapplied it frequently, and he insisted that Presea do the same. Even still, their skin was dry and she was tanning a little.
She was lying flat on her stomach, half-dozing in the heat and looking over the edge of the fish when she saw the brilliant reflection of the lake beneath them. And then she turned around to glance at her companion, who was frowning at a chart in his hand and sweating under his collar.
"Let's go for a swim," she called to him.
Clef looked up, eyes unfocused for a moment. It had been the better part of an hour since they'd spoken and she wondered if he'd been concentrating so hard that he'd forgotten she was here.
"Let's do what?"
She scrambled to the front of the fish and directed Fyula toward the small body of water before Clef could protest. He stood and followed her curiously.
"What are you doing? Did you need a break?"
He usually waited for her to remind him that they'd been flying for long enough that dinner and making camp was necessary. She wasn't sure how he'd managed not to work himself to death previously, if she was honest.
"Let's go swimming," she said breathlessly, pushing her damp bangs out of her eyes. "That's what you do when it's too hot in the summer, right?"
"We do have somewhere to be," he began hesitantly, but she was already unfastening her Pharle circlet and stowing it carefully in her bag. Fyula continued to descend as Presea let her hair down and began to pluck at her remaining layers of clothing.
In the heat, it was difficult to see his blush, but it was there. Although they'd been camping for weeks now, and he'd seen her in all kinds of dishabille and had caused some of them himself, a blush was still his first response to her nudity. She thought it was sweet, and strangely innocent for someone who'd lived so long.
"You said we weren't going to arrive until tomorrow, and it isn't as if she's expecting us. I think we can borrow a couple of hours."
Fyula reached her landing height and hovered. Presea offered Clef a hand. She could smell the lake and itched to be in it, to let the cool water soothe her skin. She practically dragged him down to the shore and waded in, stripping as she did and throwing her remaining garments to shore.
He gaped, but she finally reached a comfortable depth and splashed backwards into the water. When she came up, dripping and grinning, she knew his body was responding to the sight.
"Come on! It's actually cool in here."
Without waiting for an answer she came back and pulled him in after her. Her hands crept up underneath his shirt and she helped him pull it off, but she let him keep his pants. She was pretty sure he wouldn't quite be comfortable with skinnydipping.
He didn't seem to mind the water fight that ensued when she began splashing him, though. Full of energy brought out of relieved heat, they played in the lake for quite a while, enjoying the water and the break from duties. Even Fyula joined in.
And when the play turned to teasing, and the teasing to flirting, and the flirting to making an early camp, no one minded. They woke in the morning, sticky but refreshed, and had quick baths before climbing back onto the fish.
The summer sun was still hot, but a wind was rising, and it propelled them forward on their quest, to the hopes of another harvest season.
*
autumn; ten years post-canon
The Bassara were camped not ten miles from Presea's house and she spent most of the afternoon with them on the day of the harvest festival. They came every three years or so to the village near their former daughter's home, and she always took some time to visit. There were new babies to admire, news to hear, weapons to repair. And Presea wasn't quite as lost from their culture as many were. She was unmarried and independent, and still able to speak their dialect. She endured their good-natured ribbing about settling down in one place among those of the Pillar culture, and listened to new stories and tales of her aunts and cousins and sisters.
In payment for her Pharle services, since the Bassara rarely bartered with common coin, she received a warm leather cloak in a child's size. That prompted more questions and teasing, but she refused to talk much about it. They were a nomadic people who had romance on the move, or among themselves, or not at all. But it was turning toward fall now, and Presea had aims toward a restful winter with someone who'd probably not bought a new cloak in decades, if one judged by the antiquated style of his current one.
She left her sisters a few hours before dark, returning home for her own lightweight cloak before walking the trail to the palace. The birds called cheerfully through the trees and the wind rustled in a contented way through the leaves, which were just beginning to golden. The will of the people had healed this land quickly. It would be a good harvest.
Most of the festival preparations had been conducted over the previous month (which is why Presea felt okay with taking the afternoon off). In fact, she'd hardly seen her own bed these last couple of weeks, working by candlelight until the yawns became too frequent and she'd convinced Clef to steal a few hours of sleep before the dawn.
She knew it was worth it, though. She'd hardly hung up her cloak and tucked away Clef's gift (to be presented in the morning) before the Knights had found her, gaily bedecked in traditional dress and looking quite like native Cephirans. When she told them so, they seemed pleased by the compliment. They had news, as usual - Umi was nearly ready to become a master of lawyering (it had been a long apprenticeship, Presea thought); Fuu's parents were grudgingly approving of the picture of Fuu's mysterious but devoted long-distance suitor; and Hikaru had finally, and just in time, mastered the steps to the dance the three girls would be leading tonight (it changed every year, much to her dismay).
She let their chatter flow around her as they made their way to the receiving room, a gigantic chamber which had formerly served as the throne room before being repurposed to special occasions and political meetings. Hikaru led the group as they greeted everyone; her memory for names and personal details still amazed them all.
But even more than spring, the autumn festival was about couples, about harvest and bounty and a celebration of a good summer. It wasn't long before the girls found their boyfriends and Presea was left alone. She knew where hers was, of course: in his office with the door locked, enjoying a few last minutes of silence, or more likely, dozing. He'd arrive before the official ceremonies started.
"Pharle Presea, sugar, why do you look so lost?" someone asked, and before she could protest that she wasn't lost (except perhaps in thought), she was grabbed and hugged forcibly around the middle by the spitfire cheer of Caldina. She met Caldina's grin with a smile of her own, but the dancer wasn't dissuaded.
"I may not have been born here but I know that by this time you're supposed to have found your man. Where's the short and scowling one? You wear him out this afternoon?"
Lafarga had been trailing his wife obediently. At her words, a blush rose to his face that the paint couldn't really disguise. Presea knew there was a matching one on hers; she disentangled herself from Caldina and shook her head.
"He'll be here. He had things to do."
"Sure, sure," Caldina began, but Presea's gaze slipped past her, and down, her look fond, and Caldina turned to see Guru Clef behind her.
"Speak of the mouseowl and there he is!" she declared.
"Did you need me for something?" he asked, but Caldina shook her head and Presea stepped forward to take his hands in hers, smiling.
"Well, I knew that you would," he said to her, smiling faintly back. She squeezed his hands. Caldina chuckled and said something about the way they still acted like new lovers, but neither were paying attention, and Presea was only barely aware of it when Lafarga allowed a small smile onto his face and convinced his wife to come away with him.
The Knights - and maybe they hadn't been Knights for years now, but that was always the way Presea would see them in her mind, their Magic Knights, their rescuers and breakers - led the first dance, and as Clef watched beside her, he had a certain focused look in his eyes that Presea knew. He was thinking about Emeraude, and perhaps the Pillars before her, the hours spent observing her practices and being her partner. The Pillar never had a lover to dance with, of course, and most tended to choose a partner from the nearby village; they had once held contests for the privilege. Emeraude had usually chosen to dance with the man who'd raised her, laughing and saying that none of the local twelve-year-olds could stamp half as well.
Presea leaned closer to him just a little, brushing their arms together in wordless comfort. He leaned into the touch and they carved out their own little island of silence, at least temporarily. It wasn't long before Umi and Fuu and Hikaru arrived to kiss their cheeks and thereby draw them onto the floor; soon everyone was flushed with exertion and excitement.
But this was a festival that people were expected to sneak away from, and they did, two by two. Clef and Presea disappeared sometime after midnight, drunk on kisses and pausing on occasion to share more, a show of affection that they rarely indulged in outside their quarters. They weren't the only ones tonight, though, and no one thought to blink. They'd hardly shut the door to Clef's rooms before Presea was pressed back against it, his hands climbing her thighs.
Some time after, pleased and spent, they lay cuddling in bed, half-dozing contentedly. Presea was curled around Clef, hands tangled in his, and she pressed a kiss to his earlobe and said, "Do you want to get married?"
He hesitated for a moment before replying, though he didn't pull away. "Would you be offended if I asked why?"
"I've been thinking about it for a while," she answered, her tone contemplative. She was silent for a moment. "It's not that I want to have children. An apprentice will be enough. And we spend most nights together at your place or mine. No one else is trying to court you."
"Mm," he said, shifting around so he could meet her eyes. She looked at him, smiling softly.
"Just to call you my husband, I think," she said. "To tell everyone that I plan to love you and be with you until death separates us. Because I want to."
"I see," he answered. He brushed a stray hair from her face and smiled a little. "Well, that sounds like a very good reason to me."
They were married in a small ceremony before fall gave way to winter, greeting the crisp air of the dawn together, hand in hand. It didn't change them much; their relationship was as steady as their individual persons. But sometimes he would look at her with a vague amazement in his eyes, as if fascinated with his good fortune, and it was a look she returned with the same wonder. It was more than worth it.
*
winter; twenty years post-canon
There was no ceremony to mark the beginning of winter, just the slow drift of temperature and the brightening of the moon. Presea always marked it as the day that her husband came home for the season and stayed. She was in the yard when he came home, cloak pulled tight around him, his breath a warm halo in the air. She had been raking leaves, but she leaned the rake against the tree for a moment to greet him and brush a hand through his hair under his hood. He leaned up into the touch, smiling.
It was strange for him to come back unaccompanied by his apprentice, and when Presea looked around, expecting to see the girl come into the clearing, Clef answered her unasked question.
"I gave her the winter off. Her first free act was to insist on staying over a few days with the princess." Ferio and Fuu's daughter had inherited her father's love for adventure and her mother's quirkiness; Clef's apprentice was her constant follower when she could find time to sneak away from lessons.
"So it's Ferio's problem when they explode something," Presea said.
"Exactly," Clef said, sounding quite contented with the thought. He patted her hand and then made his way toward the house. Raking had kept Presea warm, but now wasn't a bad time to go indoors. She went back for the rake and when she came in, Clef was already making tea and warming the kitchen.
Her apprentice had gone back to his hometown, courting, she told Clef. He was nearly done with his training, and in any case, the Pharle often took a winter vacation too. Nowadays.
"Convenient," he said, amusement in his voice. She grinned at him.
"I didn't see anything wrong with the idea. Might as well take advantage of this weather," she said.
"It may snow next week," he said. "I'm not sure there's much to be taken advantage of."
"Well, there's you," she said matter-of-factly, enjoying his blush, "but cold weather can be nice too. How long has it been since you made a snowman?"
He pondered the question. "Last year I believe you made me." He seemed amused by the memory. The other three had teamed up against him and talked him into contributing a cloak for the snowman to wear, despite his insistence that snowpeople most likely preferred being cold. They'd had a snowball fight that had ultimately led to a nasty winter cold that had taken Presea some time to shake. That afternoon had been the wettest, coldest, and best time they'd had, though.
"Well, it's about time for a new one," she said.
"I'm not sure I can doom another snowman to such a short existence," he said, mock-seriously. "The children took his head off the next morning, if I recall."
"Well, they're not here to execute this one," she said. She'd poured herself a cup of tea, but she set it on the counter and came to him, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead and then his mouth. "It's just us," she said, smiling at him.
"An opportunity to catch up on my reading, then!" he said, still teasing, and squeaked in surprise when she took his tea from him and kissed him more thoroughly.
"You can read in bed," she purred, pulling him after her toward their room. More than twenty years together, and she was as giddy as if it were the first time. It was nice not having to consider anyone else but themselves for a little while, if she could let herself be so selfish.
The tea on the counter grew cold; outside, it began to snow. Inside, where it mattered, love was warm and happy.