Everyday setting meme: FE9/10
Mar. 31st, 2011 04:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shinonPrompt from sagesoren.
Neither ravens nor herons are well suited for night flying, so they make their final approach very, very carefully. The last light is bleeding from the sky. "That's the point," he told her a few hours ago, and then asked her to kindly refrain from reading his mind until it was all over. She's been trying not to, so as not to spoil the surprise, but some things she can't avoid sensing. She doesn't have to be able to see the spread of his feathers or the angle of his wings to know that Naesala is feeling extremely pleased with himself tonight. He must have something amazing in store.
There's a pavilion high in one of the trees, above the lake. Naesala angles toward it and Leanne follows. He drops through the arch and out of bird form; she transforms just outside and gives him her hand and lets him help her through, like a gallant.
"Now look toward Sienne," he says, "and wait for it."
"For what?" she asks. He gives her a sidelong look and shakes his head, smiling. She crosses to the other side and looks out over the trees and the water. It's very pretty. But she waits, because he said so, to see if it gets prettier. From Naesala she senses happiness - not the careful smirk-with-hooded-eyes kind of happy, but something much less complicated. And then colored fire shoots up from the horizon and scatters among the stars. She's seldom seen anything so beautiful.
It happens again. Red and gold and blue, in patterns that swirl and sparkle and drift. She turns to him, and opens her mind to his thoughts again. There's something about beorc mages and months of planning and some kind of commemorative ceremony. But that information she has to sift for, because first and foremost when he is thinking about the fireworks he is thinking about the look on her face.
"I thought you might like that," he says.
She grabs his hand and pulls him to the edge with her so they can watch side-by-side. After a moment he puts an arm around her. She says softly in the ancient language, "Now I like it more."
Neither ravens nor herons are well suited for night flying, so they make their final approach very, very carefully. The last light is bleeding from the sky. "That's the point," he told her a few hours ago, and then asked her to kindly refrain from reading his mind until it was all over. She's been trying not to, so as not to spoil the surprise, but some things she can't avoid sensing. She doesn't have to be able to see the spread of his feathers or the angle of his wings to know that Naesala is feeling extremely pleased with himself tonight. He must have something amazing in store.
There's a pavilion high in one of the trees, above the lake. Naesala angles toward it and Leanne follows. He drops through the arch and out of bird form; she transforms just outside and gives him her hand and lets him help her through, like a gallant.
"Now look toward Sienne," he says, "and wait for it."
"For what?" she asks. He gives her a sidelong look and shakes his head, smiling. She crosses to the other side and looks out over the trees and the water. It's very pretty. But she waits, because he said so, to see if it gets prettier. From Naesala she senses happiness - not the careful smirk-with-hooded-eyes kind of happy, but something much less complicated. And then colored fire shoots up from the horizon and scatters among the stars. She's seldom seen anything so beautiful.
It happens again. Red and gold and blue, in patterns that swirl and sparkle and drift. She turns to him, and opens her mind to his thoughts again. There's something about beorc mages and months of planning and some kind of commemorative ceremony. But that information she has to sift for, because first and foremost when he is thinking about the fireworks he is thinking about the look on her face.
"I thought you might like that," he says.
She grabs his hand and pulls him to the edge with her so they can watch side-by-side. After a moment he puts an arm around her. She says softly in the ancient language, "Now I like it more."
