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for kia: assorted
song;
When Perennial opened her eyes, she didn’t know what woke her up. At least at first.
But gradually, something low and soft reached her ears and she raised her head more, her ears perking. It was singing. Or, at the very least, an attempt at singing. It reminded her of her family, of the younger ones when they tried singing at the tops of their lungs.
They didn’t know what they were doing, but oh the gusto with which they sang just made it so cute.
She crept to the edge of the rudimentary tent, peering out.
Indeed, there was Engel. His features were illuminated by dim moonlight as he sang under his breath. He would let the words he was singing trail off into soft humming as he dexterously repaired a rip in his cloak. But, as Per shifted closer, curious, he froze with a long ear quivering.
“…I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“Not really.” Perennial studied his face. “I didn’t think you sung.”
Engel flushed—barely, but there was a distinct tinge of pink to his face. He looked back down at his cloak and shrugged one of his shoulders. “Not particularly. I just remembered a song my cousin used to sing.”
“You can keep going.”
His hands clenched, flexing in thick fabric meant to protect from the elements. Was he embarrassed?
“I’m going back to sleep anyway.” Sensing an audience did nothing for him, Perennial slipped back inside and curled up. Eventually, eventually, she heard his voice again.
His awkward, clumsy singing sent her to sleep before she even knew it.
milk ;
The wind howled outside of Aisemant’s mansion, rattling windowpanes. It was snowing, as if often did. However, today the cold cut through walls, fighting against even the generously stoked fireplaces. Juna wanted to stay in the stables with Riviera, but the cold was nothing to be scoffed at. She was wrapped up in blankets in front of one of the fireplaces, trying to keep warm but also struggling against sleepiness.
Thud.
She started, but it was just Aisemant setting a solid mug down on the table by her. He paused, looking down at her with an apologetic twist to the corners of his lips.
“My apologies, I woke you. I brought you something warm to drink, before bed.” He stopped and added, too hastily to not make Juna a mite suspicious, “The kitchen prepared it for you.”
“Oh?” She looked at the mug. It was full of milk, wafting steam. It smelled different from regular milk and she took up the mug, sighing in relief as the warmth crept from her fingertips up. When she sipped it, she tasted sweetness and—something else. Something chocolatey, almost, but not quite. Her eyebrows ticked up with surprise and interest and she looked up. “Thank you, Your Grace. It’s delicious.”
“No need to thank me. Take care that you don’t take chill tonight.”
Though Aisemant’s way of speaking was dismissive, she did catch a brief look of satisfaction.
Later, she just so happened to wander down to the kitchen to ask about it as she brought the empty mug with her.
“What, did he say I made it?” the cook laughed, wiping her hands. “No, he prepared that himself. It’s a secret recipe, you know, from his mother. She always made it for him before bed. Forgive our Aise for his dishonesty, he’s such a shy boy.”
Juna smiled.
possessive;
Yagen had this tendency to never want anything. His brothers, well, some of them would flock to Laura if she took them somewhere like a town or a place with stores. They wanted to try treats, snacks, but Yagen was like Laura in that he never asked anyone to pick up anything for him. He was the one who brought things after expeditions, asking her with a careless smile if she wanted a souvenir.
How did you give a present to someone who never expressed a want for anything?
When Laura finally found something that was the perfect gift, it wasn’t on purpose. She handed him a protection charm solemnly and bade him safety on his latest mission. He looked at it for a long time but thanked her with a smile. The pause was weird, but he didn't seem any different from always.
She was sure he didn’t mean for it to be seen, but she glimpsed that as the group headed off:
“Whazzat? Saniwa give you that?” Fudou Yukimitsu tottered, making a grab in Yagen’s direction. “Lemme see!”
“No,” Yagen retorted, sharply smacking his hand. “This is mine. You focus on the mission.”
“What—you’re stingy!”
Laura struggled not to smile, turning back toward the citadel.
Of course it was something practical he wanted.
When Perennial opened her eyes, she didn’t know what woke her up. At least at first.
But gradually, something low and soft reached her ears and she raised her head more, her ears perking. It was singing. Or, at the very least, an attempt at singing. It reminded her of her family, of the younger ones when they tried singing at the tops of their lungs.
They didn’t know what they were doing, but oh the gusto with which they sang just made it so cute.
She crept to the edge of the rudimentary tent, peering out.
Indeed, there was Engel. His features were illuminated by dim moonlight as he sang under his breath. He would let the words he was singing trail off into soft humming as he dexterously repaired a rip in his cloak. But, as Per shifted closer, curious, he froze with a long ear quivering.
“…I’m sorry, did I wake you?”
“Not really.” Perennial studied his face. “I didn’t think you sung.”
Engel flushed—barely, but there was a distinct tinge of pink to his face. He looked back down at his cloak and shrugged one of his shoulders. “Not particularly. I just remembered a song my cousin used to sing.”
“You can keep going.”
His hands clenched, flexing in thick fabric meant to protect from the elements. Was he embarrassed?
“I’m going back to sleep anyway.” Sensing an audience did nothing for him, Perennial slipped back inside and curled up. Eventually, eventually, she heard his voice again.
His awkward, clumsy singing sent her to sleep before she even knew it.
milk ;
The wind howled outside of Aisemant’s mansion, rattling windowpanes. It was snowing, as if often did. However, today the cold cut through walls, fighting against even the generously stoked fireplaces. Juna wanted to stay in the stables with Riviera, but the cold was nothing to be scoffed at. She was wrapped up in blankets in front of one of the fireplaces, trying to keep warm but also struggling against sleepiness.
Thud.
She started, but it was just Aisemant setting a solid mug down on the table by her. He paused, looking down at her with an apologetic twist to the corners of his lips.
“My apologies, I woke you. I brought you something warm to drink, before bed.” He stopped and added, too hastily to not make Juna a mite suspicious, “The kitchen prepared it for you.”
“Oh?” She looked at the mug. It was full of milk, wafting steam. It smelled different from regular milk and she took up the mug, sighing in relief as the warmth crept from her fingertips up. When she sipped it, she tasted sweetness and—something else. Something chocolatey, almost, but not quite. Her eyebrows ticked up with surprise and interest and she looked up. “Thank you, Your Grace. It’s delicious.”
“No need to thank me. Take care that you don’t take chill tonight.”
Though Aisemant’s way of speaking was dismissive, she did catch a brief look of satisfaction.
Later, she just so happened to wander down to the kitchen to ask about it as she brought the empty mug with her.
“What, did he say I made it?” the cook laughed, wiping her hands. “No, he prepared that himself. It’s a secret recipe, you know, from his mother. She always made it for him before bed. Forgive our Aise for his dishonesty, he’s such a shy boy.”
Juna smiled.
possessive;
Yagen had this tendency to never want anything. His brothers, well, some of them would flock to Laura if she took them somewhere like a town or a place with stores. They wanted to try treats, snacks, but Yagen was like Laura in that he never asked anyone to pick up anything for him. He was the one who brought things after expeditions, asking her with a careless smile if she wanted a souvenir.
How did you give a present to someone who never expressed a want for anything?
When Laura finally found something that was the perfect gift, it wasn’t on purpose. She handed him a protection charm solemnly and bade him safety on his latest mission. He looked at it for a long time but thanked her with a smile. The pause was weird, but he didn't seem any different from always.
She was sure he didn’t mean for it to be seen, but she glimpsed that as the group headed off:
“Whazzat? Saniwa give you that?” Fudou Yukimitsu tottered, making a grab in Yagen’s direction. “Lemme see!”
“No,” Yagen retorted, sharply smacking his hand. “This is mine. You focus on the mission.”
“What—you’re stingy!”
Laura struggled not to smile, turning back toward the citadel.
Of course it was something practical he wanted.