The hills were stark crags, and the wind smelled fresh. The hills were mountains. They grew around him. North. The crispness made his heart sing. Whiteness skirted the edge of his vision. Home.
::Steve. You’re dreaming. Tomasin. Steven::
Whrrrr? Rumpfh? Steve clung to the dream.
He been half way up Cadre Idridal revelling in the open spaces and the clean air . His and Danny’s bedchamber resolved around him. A startling white ghost stood by the side of the bed.
Mothers of—Cold sweat froze on Steve’s skin. What? Steve called Magics--
The ghost resolved into Tomasin: white hair; translucently pale skin blushed with blue veins; red-ringed eyes, and a bone white nightgown.
“Tomi?” Steve croaked.
Shivering, Tomasin stared at him.
::Gods!:: Steve told Bane, chillingly relieved that he hadn’t blasted the ghost and asked questions later. ::Thank you. Thank you::
“Tomi?” Steve croaked. Squinting, he pushed up on one elbow. “What’s the matter?”
Their bedroom was bordering on pitch black. The curtains were heavy, a leftover from the Queen’s need for a darkness when her headaches were unendurable. A simple spell wove a tiny magelight into being, softly illuminating Tomasin. She stood hunched up, little toes scrunched against the cold, wooden floor. He could feel cold emanating from the Little.
“S’eve?” Her teeth chattered.
Steve lifted the edge of the quilt. She needed no further invitation, sniffling she dove against his side.
“What’s the matter?” Steve held the icicle close, as she plastered into his warmth. “What’s the matter?”
Danny shifted. Not quite yet awake, but close.
“The Fell. The Fell was in the room.” Tomasin rubbed her cold nose against his collar.
“The Fell?” Steve echoed. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Dark. Growing in the corners. S’eve,” she said piteously.
Immediately, Steve cast his senses wide; thought sensing and mage wrought. The pulse of mage sensing skirted the wards that he had carefully set in their home. Nothing had been breached, they were inviolate. Lito and Hele slept the deep sleep of the truly innocent. Mistress Gana slept, caught in a dream. Silence slept lightly, aware on some level that her sister was no longer in her own bed in their room.
“You had a nightmare, pudding.” Steve cuddled her close. Her cold toes pushed against his ribs through his thin nightshirt. “Nothing is in the corners. I promise.”
“It didn’t work,” Tomasin mumbled.
“What didn’t work?” Steve asked.
Her fingers patted his chest drawing glyphs. Sinistral running circle, cut with a dividing line. Steve didn’t know that one. Making up runes, when playing was cute, but he should probably stop casting in front of the Littles.
“Wh’t’s up?” Danny mumbled. He managed to get one eye open.
“Nightmare,” Steve told him. “Everything is fine.”
Danny pulled a face, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose, forcibly dragging himself to wakefulness.
“Danno,” she said miserably.
“Oh, Tomi.” Reaching out, Danny cupped the back of her head. “She’s cold. Chilled. You want to stay with us, sweetheart?”
Tomasin nodded against Steve’s chest. She blinked at her Danno though tear clumped lashes.
“It was The Fell,” Tomasin whispered. “It was craw’ing dark.”
“Only a dream,” Danny soothed. “Only a dream. Dreams can’t get past Steve.”
“True,” Steve said easily, joggling her just a little bit. They should probably cut back on the cheese on toast for supper, he supposed.
“You’re safe.” Danny leaned over and brushed a kiss on her forehead.
::The Fell?:: Danny asked.
::New one to me. Something she picked up from one of the diplomats’ littles?::
::Possibly:: Danny mentally shrugged. The nannies congregated daily. There were also a series of events around the various diplomats’ traditions.
“Needs a magicanman,” Tomasin told them, curling impossibly further into Steve’s warmth. She was a little heat sink. Danny shifted closer, and if Tomi was stealing warmth, Danny was warmth itself.
“Magincanman, hmm?” Danny smoothed a hand over her hair, soothingly. “Like Steve. A magician.”
Luckily, Tomasin couldn’t see Steve roll his eyes. He was not by any interpretation a mere magician. He was a mage. And a War Mage at that.
Danny was crooning under his breath a made-up lullaby about Steve and magic and wishing away shadows. Tomasin was getting heavy on Steve’s chest as she gave way to sleep. Danny wasn’t singing, it was more of a repetition of Steve is magic, the darkness is gone, sleep safe now, baby, you can rest, the darkness is gone. The cadence worked its own magic. Steve felt Tomasin switch into sleep, limp and heavy.
Danny smiled. And Steve smiled back at him.
::Shall I get Silence?:: Danny wondered.
Steve turned his thoughts in her direction. Silence still slept.
::I dunno. She’s still asleep. You try and pick her up and she’ll scratch your eyes out:: Steve didn’t say that Silence would also get an almighty fright.
::She’ll come looking as soon as she misses Tomasin::
::Of course she will. And she’ll come find us::
Danny flopped back onto his pillow. “True.” He yawned. “I’m going to sleep until she comes.”
That as his last word on the topic. Steve also rested back, careful of the vulnerable weight on his chest. It was a strange sort of feeling in his mouth to be this trusted; Tomasin had come to him rather than wake Silence.
Steve dozed because he didn’t want to chance over-reacting to Silence’s presence, even if Bane might wander through his dreams and warn him. Finally, the creak of the door opening a fraction wider than the handbreadth that Tomasin needed to slip through heralded Silence’s entry.
“Sil,” he whispered, quiet enough that even Danny wouldn’t be disturbed.
The mage light bobbed in the air. Silence slid across the floor without a noise. The weight of her narrowed stare was tangible; her sister had not woken her, but came to Steve – why?
“Tomasin had a nightmare,” Steve explained. “But only a mage could scare away the monster.”
“The Fell,” Silence finally said. “Tomasin doesn’t like The Fell.”
Steve nodded carefully. Slipping his hand out from under his quilt, he patted the mattress.
“Hmmm.” Grumpily, Silence clambered onto their bed. She eeled under the quilt, but curling up she stayed a handspan from Steve and Tomasin’s side. “Good.”
She slept in the tightest of balls, the complete opposite to Tomasin’s cover stealing sprawl. She curled up, but her eyes were too tightly closed for sleep.
Danny had tried a lullaby.
“There were four in the bed,” Steve began tunelessly, as Tomasin slept soundly on his chest, “and the little one said--”
Danny poked him hard in the side. “Don’t you dare!” he whispered.
Steve sniggered.
Silence’s eyes popped open.
“I swear,” Danny whispered to her over Steve’s shoulder, “I don’t know who is the bigger Little – this turnip or Tomasin. You’re not singing that song, Steve, I don’t want to end up on the floor.”
A curl of a smile graced Silence’s solemn little face.
“Everyone: eyes closed,” Danny ordered. “Now.”
Steve closed his eyes.
“Press your tongue against the roof of your mouth just behind your teeth. Breathe out slowly. One, two, three--”
Sainsbury’s breakfast bell woke Steve or Danny sitting up. He wasn’t too sure which disturbed him. Tomasin was a heavy lump on his chest, and Silence had curled into his warmth.
Danny grumbled above them, unhappy to be awake. “If we asked nicely would Sainsbury bring us breakfast in the bed?”
You know he would, your Majesty, Steve didn’t say or project. But Danny wouldn’t ask, he thought that Sainsbury did enough for them.
“Burlhp.” Danny scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I slept well.”
“Four in the bed and the little one said….” Steve hummed.
Danny pushed his shoulder with a loose fist – half punch and half a hit, gently so as not to disturb Tomasin.
“Turnip.” He brushed a kiss on Steve’s forehead, and then kissed Tomasin’s temple.
She smacked her lips, always slow to wake under any circumstances. Silence, however, was watching.
“Good Morning, Silence,” Danny said.
“MOnrn, Danno.”
Danny smiled, so full of love, he was like the sun in the darkened bedroom.
Steve shifted up on his pillows, curling into a half-raised position. He Fetched the heavy curtains open with a brief thought. Amber light, the sun filtered through morning mist, was welcoming.
“Looks like it might be a good day.” Danny stretched widely and yawned. “Nice and bright.”
“Good for that celebration that the Haighlei are hosting?”
“Yeah.” Danny cast back his quilt letting cold air in, and everyone whined, including the slumbering Tomasin. “I think it is supposed to be outside?”
He padded to the garderobe, scratching his butt through his long nightshirt.
“What’s happening?” Silence uncurled to sit up.
Question from Silence, it behoved Steve to answer.
“They call it the Lune festival, it’s a ceremony from their home, we’re invited.”
“We are?” Silence pointed at her chest and then at Tomasin.
Steve nodded. “All the Littles and Growed ups.”
“Growed ups?” Silence eyed him.
“Tomasin,” Steve explained.
Letting Silence ponder that, he sat up fully, joggling Tomasin just a fraction. “Breakfast time,” he cajoled. “Time for breakfast.”
She wasn’t having any of it; warm and comfortable, and content to continue sleeping. Her weight of her absolute trust was a curious pressure on his heart.
“Do we want to go?” Silence finally said.
Steve parsed the question. Silence was asking a lot of different things.
“I don’t know. You why don’t you ask Wēra about the festival and then decide? If you don’t want to go that’s fine. But Tomasin might want to go, even if you don’t want to.”
Silence digested that and responded by sliding off the bed, dropping lightly to the wooden floor with barely a whisper. She padded out of the room without looking back.
Steve winced. But Garivald had brought up the topic of allowing Silence to make her own decisions, and not subsuming her own wishes for the sake of Tomasin or telling Tomasin what to do. Steve shuffled off their ridiculously wide bed, holding Tomasin. He should have probably phrased his response differently, he supposed, made it more about Silence’s wishes? But he had only been awake a crow’s bell and hadn’t even had a mouthful of klah.
Tomasin was a warm, content ball, Steve managed to get out from under their quilts without getting tangled and falling over. Barefooted and only in his light sleeping shirt and running trews – Sainsbury would have a cow – he padded through the chambers to breakfast.
“Mi’Lord.” Sainsbury set down a covered dish on the centre of the breakfast table with a thump.
Oh, and Sainsbury definitely didn’t approve of his dress.
“I will stoke the fires.” Sainsbury left to do just that.
“Thank you, Sainsbury.” Steve couldn’t put Tomasin down, she was clinging to him like a sleepy squirrel. How was he supposed to get dressed?
One-handed, Steve poured himself a cup of klah, added milk and sugar and sat in the sunniest spot at the end of the table. Tomasin curled on his lap, flushed cheek pushed into his chest. The furnace roared loudly from Sainsbury’s kitchen, and Steve felt the added pulse of warm air warming the hypocaust beneath his feet.
As he sipped at his klah, Tomasin stirred, the sun on her face or the smell of the rich drink, or both, finally rousing her. She rubbed her nose back and forth on his shirt, grumbling. He should have probably brought a blanket or something, Steve supposed, but warmth would have lulled her deeper into sleep.
Silence came into breakfast, shiny hair unbrushed but dressed, face pinked after washing. Sainsbury would be proud.
“If I don’t want to go, will you look after Tomasin?” Silence said without preamble.
“Yes,” Steve said immediately.
Silence got onto her seat, kneeling so she could reach across the table and lift the lids off Sainsbury’s morning offerings. Eggs featured strongly – the Palace chickens must have been productive. Boiled eggs sat in a tureen of salt.
“That’s a lot of salt,” Silence said awed. There was easily a trader’s month’s wages in that bowl.
“I guess it’s still usable,” Steve offered, unsure; it did seem wasteful. “It must be keeping the eggs warm or something?”
“Eggs?” Danny sauntered into the breakfast room, dressed and washed. He took his seat. “Oooh, boiled eggs.”
Carefully, intent on not disturbing a grain of salt, Silence parcelled out the eggs. Two for Danny along with some toast. And one each for her and Tomasin. Without being asked, she filled a bowl with porridge dotted with flax for Steve. He wanted eggs but he didn’t complain.
He could eat porridge one-handed. Content on his lap, Tomasin plied herself to her egg carefully knocking off the tip with some help. Steve cut her some toast soldiers to dip in the yolk. They were quiet as they ate, enjoying a peaceful morning. Both of the Littles ate another egg, and Steve was graciously allowed one to supplement his healthy porridge.
Methodically, Tomasin collected all the shelled eggs and started to break the bottoms with her teaspoon.
“What’re you doing?” Steve asked as she destroyed another half shell.
She paused, lifting her chin to look up at him. “S’eve?”
Steve curled over and bussed a kiss on her forehead. “What are you doing to the neggs?”
“Gotta make sure the bad sea witches can’t use them as boateses to call up storms to sink the fishermums,” Tomasin said quite seriously.
That was a new one.
“Cee witches?” Danny asked.
“Sea witches?” Tomasin broke another egg, a little viciously, no sea witch was using that as a boat.
::Sea? Like the giant lakes of pre-history?:: Danny asked.
A firm image of a dog-eared copy of a copy of a map flittered across Steve’s thoughts, pre-cataclysm Velgarth, the lands of split by the Sea of Soren.
::Diplomat Little’s story? Along with The Fell?:: Steve said.
::Maybe this sharing thing wasn’t a good idea?:: Danny thought.
::I don’t thinking obliterating egg shells will harm anyone?::
Tomasin methodologically destroyed another egg shell. Steve pushed another on into her orbit with his fingertip. She pounced on it.
::But another horror story will upset Tomasin:: Danny thought.
::All Littles have nightmares:: Steve said, that all adults have nightmares went unspoken.
::That’s remarkably sanguine::
Steve stuck his tongue out at him.
“And that’s juvenile.” Danny responded.
Steve crossed his eyes, drawing a giggle from Tomasin and a smile from Silence. Danny wiped his mouth with a napkin – breakfast finished. Setting the napkin aside, he stood. He paused a beat, mentally winding up for the day.
“Right, I’m going to see The Hierophant,” Danny drew in a fortifying breath. “I’ll catch up with you, Steve, at noon, there’s no Court. What are you up to?”
“Jafjson first thing and then I’ll go see Brick,” Steve said. Jafjson had requested what promised to be the first of regular King’s Own and First Minister catch ups. Steve had automatically decided to see Brick afterwards, needing to balance Jafjson’s slimy politics with Brick’s klah-bitter, straightforward way.
“Meet at the Weaponsmaster’s?” Danny confirmed.
“That works.” Exercise before breaking for lunch was always sensible. If Creed had determined that he and Danny needed to work on the pattern of their defence and offence to attacks, Steve accepted that wholeheartedly, and was prepared to prioritise that over all other duties.
“Silence?” Danny asked.
“Megan’s reading and ‘riting.” She said up straighter. “And we have to see Wēra.”
“Why Wēra?” Danny asked.
Silence chewed over her words, and then said carefully, “Wanna know about the Lune fest’. Figure it out.”
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sealie
no subject
Date: 2019-03-12 07:59 am (UTC)::Steve. Steve::
The hills were stark crags, and the wind smelled fresh. The hills were mountains. They grew around him. North. The crispness made his heart sing. Whiteness skirted the edge of his vision. Home.
::Steve. You’re dreaming. Tomasin. Steven::
Whrrrr? Rumpfh? Steve clung to the dream.
He been half way up Cadre Idridal revelling in the open spaces and the clean air . His and Danny’s bedchamber resolved around him. A startling white ghost stood by the side of the bed.
Mothers of—Cold sweat froze on Steve’s skin. What? Steve called Magics--
::Tomasin! It’s Tomasin:: Bane shouted. ::Steve, it’s Tomasin!::
The ghost resolved into Tomasin: white hair; translucently pale skin blushed with blue veins; red-ringed eyes, and a bone white nightgown.
“Tomi?” Steve croaked.
Shivering, Tomasin stared at him.
::Gods!:: Steve told Bane, chillingly relieved that he hadn’t blasted the ghost and asked questions later. ::Thank you. Thank you::
“Tomi?” Steve croaked. Squinting, he pushed up on one elbow. “What’s the matter?”
Their bedroom was bordering on pitch black. The curtains were heavy, a leftover from the Queen’s need for a darkness when her headaches were unendurable. A simple spell wove a tiny magelight into being, softly illuminating Tomasin. She stood hunched up, little toes scrunched against the cold, wooden floor. He could feel cold emanating from the Little.
“S’eve?” Her teeth chattered.
Steve lifted the edge of the quilt. She needed no further invitation, sniffling she dove against his side.
“What’s the matter?” Steve held the icicle close, as she plastered into his warmth. “What’s the matter?”
Danny shifted. Not quite yet awake, but close.
“The Fell. The Fell was in the room.” Tomasin rubbed her cold nose against his collar.
“The Fell?” Steve echoed. He didn’t have a clue what she was talking about.
“Dark. Growing in the corners. S’eve,” she said piteously.
Immediately, Steve cast his senses wide; thought sensing and mage wrought. The pulse of mage sensing skirted the wards that he had carefully set in their home. Nothing had been breached, they were inviolate. Lito and Hele slept the deep sleep of the truly innocent. Mistress Gana slept, caught in a dream. Silence slept lightly, aware on some level that her sister was no longer in her own bed in their room.
“You had a nightmare, pudding.” Steve cuddled her close. Her cold toes pushed against his ribs through his thin nightshirt. “Nothing is in the corners. I promise.”
“It didn’t work,” Tomasin mumbled.
“What didn’t work?” Steve asked.
Her fingers patted his chest drawing glyphs. Sinistral running circle, cut with a dividing line. Steve didn’t know that one. Making up runes, when playing was cute, but he should probably stop casting in front of the Littles.
“Wh’t’s up?” Danny mumbled. He managed to get one eye open.
“Nightmare,” Steve told him. “Everything is fine.”
Danny pulled a face, sticking out his tongue and wrinkling his nose, forcibly dragging himself to wakefulness.
“Danno,” she said miserably.
“Oh, Tomi.” Reaching out, Danny cupped the back of her head. “She’s cold. Chilled. You want to stay with us, sweetheart?”
Tomasin nodded against Steve’s chest. She blinked at her Danno though tear clumped lashes.
“It was The Fell,” Tomasin whispered. “It was craw’ing dark.”
“Only a dream,” Danny soothed. “Only a dream. Dreams can’t get past Steve.”
“True,” Steve said easily, joggling her just a little bit. They should probably cut back on the cheese on toast for supper, he supposed.
“You’re safe.” Danny leaned over and brushed a kiss on her forehead.
::The Fell?:: Danny asked.
::New one to me. Something she picked up from one of the diplomats’ littles?::
::Possibly:: Danny mentally shrugged. The nannies congregated daily. There were also a series of events around the various diplomats’ traditions.
“Needs a magicanman,” Tomasin told them, curling impossibly further into Steve’s warmth. She was a little heat sink. Danny shifted closer, and if Tomi was stealing warmth, Danny was warmth itself.
“Magincanman, hmm?” Danny smoothed a hand over her hair, soothingly. “Like Steve. A magician.”
Luckily, Tomasin couldn’t see Steve roll his eyes. He was not by any interpretation a mere magician. He was a mage. And a War Mage at that.
Danny was crooning under his breath a made-up lullaby about Steve and magic and wishing away shadows. Tomasin was getting heavy on Steve’s chest as she gave way to sleep. Danny wasn’t singing, it was more of a repetition of Steve is magic, the darkness is gone, sleep safe now, baby, you can rest, the darkness is gone. The cadence worked its own magic. Steve felt Tomasin switch into sleep, limp and heavy.
Danny smiled. And Steve smiled back at him.
::Shall I get Silence?:: Danny wondered.
Steve turned his thoughts in her direction. Silence still slept.
::I dunno. She’s still asleep. You try and pick her up and she’ll scratch your eyes out:: Steve didn’t say that Silence would also get an almighty fright.
::She’ll come looking as soon as she misses Tomasin::
::Of course she will. And she’ll come find us::
Danny flopped back onto his pillow. “True.” He yawned. “I’m going to sleep until she comes.”
That as his last word on the topic. Steve also rested back, careful of the vulnerable weight on his chest. It was a strange sort of feeling in his mouth to be this trusted; Tomasin had come to him rather than wake Silence.
Steve dozed because he didn’t want to chance over-reacting to Silence’s presence, even if Bane might wander through his dreams and warn him. Finally, the creak of the door opening a fraction wider than the handbreadth that Tomasin needed to slip through heralded Silence’s entry.
“Sil,” he whispered, quiet enough that even Danny wouldn’t be disturbed.
The mage light bobbed in the air. Silence slid across the floor without a noise. The weight of her narrowed stare was tangible; her sister had not woken her, but came to Steve – why?
“Tomasin had a nightmare,” Steve explained. “But only a mage could scare away the monster.”
“The Fell,” Silence finally said. “Tomasin doesn’t like The Fell.”
Steve nodded carefully. Slipping his hand out from under his quilt, he patted the mattress.
“Hmmm.” Grumpily, Silence clambered onto their bed. She eeled under the quilt, but curling up she stayed a handspan from Steve and Tomasin’s side. “Good.”
She slept in the tightest of balls, the complete opposite to Tomasin’s cover stealing sprawl. She curled up, but her eyes were too tightly closed for sleep.
Danny had tried a lullaby.
“There were four in the bed,” Steve began tunelessly, as Tomasin slept soundly on his chest, “and the little one said--”
Danny poked him hard in the side. “Don’t you dare!” he whispered.
Steve sniggered.
Silence’s eyes popped open.
“I swear,” Danny whispered to her over Steve’s shoulder, “I don’t know who is the bigger Little – this turnip or Tomasin. You’re not singing that song, Steve, I don’t want to end up on the floor.”
A curl of a smile graced Silence’s solemn little face.
“Everyone: eyes closed,” Danny ordered. “Now.”
Steve closed his eyes.
“Press your tongue against the roof of your mouth just behind your teeth. Breathe out slowly. One, two, three--”
Steve was asleep.
~*~
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 09:41 am (UTC)I love how Steve is able to calm her and how Danny sings her to sleep.
I also love how Bane is aware and manages to prevent Steve accidently hurting Tomasin.
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 10:03 am (UTC)Sainsbury’s breakfast bell woke Steve or Danny sitting up. He wasn’t too sure which disturbed him. Tomasin was a heavy lump on his chest, and Silence had curled into his warmth.
Danny grumbled above them, unhappy to be awake. “If we asked nicely would Sainsbury bring us breakfast in the bed?”
You know he would, your Majesty, Steve didn’t say or project. But Danny wouldn’t ask, he thought that Sainsbury did enough for them.
“Burlhp.” Danny scrubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I slept well.”
“Four in the bed and the little one said….” Steve hummed.
Danny pushed his shoulder with a loose fist – half punch and half a hit, gently so as not to disturb Tomasin.
“Turnip.” He brushed a kiss on Steve’s forehead, and then kissed Tomasin’s temple.
She smacked her lips, always slow to wake under any circumstances. Silence, however, was watching.
“Good Morning, Silence,” Danny said.
“MOnrn, Danno.”
Danny smiled, so full of love, he was like the sun in the darkened bedroom.
Steve shifted up on his pillows, curling into a half-raised position. He Fetched the heavy curtains open with a brief thought. Amber light, the sun filtered through morning mist, was welcoming.
“Looks like it might be a good day.” Danny stretched widely and yawned. “Nice and bright.”
“Good for that celebration that the Haighlei are hosting?”
“Yeah.” Danny cast back his quilt letting cold air in, and everyone whined, including the slumbering Tomasin. “I think it is supposed to be outside?”
He padded to the garderobe, scratching his butt through his long nightshirt.
“What’s happening?” Silence uncurled to sit up.
Question from Silence, it behoved Steve to answer.
“They call it the Lune festival, it’s a ceremony from their home, we’re invited.”
“We are?” Silence pointed at her chest and then at Tomasin.
Steve nodded. “All the Littles and Growed ups.”
“Growed ups?” Silence eyed him.
“Tomasin,” Steve explained.
Letting Silence ponder that, he sat up fully, joggling Tomasin just a fraction. “Breakfast time,” he cajoled. “Time for breakfast.”
She wasn’t having any of it; warm and comfortable, and content to continue sleeping. Her weight of her absolute trust was a curious pressure on his heart.
“Do we want to go?” Silence finally said.
Steve parsed the question. Silence was asking a lot of different things.
“I don’t know. You why don’t you ask Wēra about the festival and then decide? If you don’t want to go that’s fine. But Tomasin might want to go, even if you don’t want to.”
Silence digested that and responded by sliding off the bed, dropping lightly to the wooden floor with barely a whisper. She padded out of the room without looking back.
Steve winced. But Garivald had brought up the topic of allowing Silence to make her own decisions, and not subsuming her own wishes for the sake of Tomasin or telling Tomasin what to do. Steve shuffled off their ridiculously wide bed, holding Tomasin. He should have probably phrased his response differently, he supposed, made it more about Silence’s wishes? But he had only been awake a crow’s bell and hadn’t even had a mouthful of klah.
Tomasin was a warm, content ball, Steve managed to get out from under their quilts without getting tangled and falling over. Barefooted and only in his light sleeping shirt and running trews – Sainsbury would have a cow – he padded through the chambers to breakfast.
“Mi’Lord.” Sainsbury set down a covered dish on the centre of the breakfast table with a thump.
Oh, and Sainsbury definitely didn’t approve of his dress.
“I will stoke the fires.” Sainsbury left to do just that.
“Thank you, Sainsbury.” Steve couldn’t put Tomasin down, she was clinging to him like a sleepy squirrel. How was he supposed to get dressed?
One-handed, Steve poured himself a cup of klah, added milk and sugar and sat in the sunniest spot at the end of the table. Tomasin curled on his lap, flushed cheek pushed into his chest. The furnace roared loudly from Sainsbury’s kitchen, and Steve felt the added pulse of warm air warming the hypocaust beneath his feet.
As he sipped at his klah, Tomasin stirred, the sun on her face or the smell of the rich drink, or both, finally rousing her. She rubbed her nose back and forth on his shirt, grumbling. He should have probably brought a blanket or something, Steve supposed, but warmth would have lulled her deeper into sleep.
Silence came into breakfast, shiny hair unbrushed but dressed, face pinked after washing. Sainsbury would be proud.
“If I don’t want to go, will you look after Tomasin?” Silence said without preamble.
“Yes,” Steve said immediately.
Silence got onto her seat, kneeling so she could reach across the table and lift the lids off Sainsbury’s morning offerings. Eggs featured strongly – the Palace chickens must have been productive. Boiled eggs sat in a tureen of salt.
“That’s a lot of salt,” Silence said awed. There was easily a trader’s month’s wages in that bowl.
“I guess it’s still usable,” Steve offered, unsure; it did seem wasteful. “It must be keeping the eggs warm or something?”
“Neggs?” Tomasin perked up.
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 10:10 am (UTC)And all of them sleepy, sleep rumbled and not quite awake. <3
Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 10:20 am (UTC)that image of Tomasin's flushed cheek pressed against his chest.
And poor Sainsbury decorum!
no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 10:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-16 10:20 am (UTC)Carefully, intent on not disturbing a grain of salt, Silence parcelled out the eggs. Two for Danny along with some toast. And one each for her and Tomasin. Without being asked, she filled a bowl with porridge dotted with flax for Steve. He wanted eggs but he didn’t complain.
He could eat porridge one-handed. Content on his lap, Tomasin plied herself to her egg carefully knocking off the tip with some help. Steve cut her some toast soldiers to dip in the yolk. They were quiet as they ate, enjoying a peaceful morning. Both of the Littles ate another egg, and Steve was graciously allowed one to supplement his healthy porridge.
Methodically, Tomasin collected all the shelled eggs and started to break the bottoms with her teaspoon.
“What’re you doing?” Steve asked as she destroyed another half shell.
She paused, lifting her chin to look up at him. “S’eve?”
Steve curled over and bussed a kiss on her forehead. “What are you doing to the neggs?”
“Gotta make sure the bad sea witches can’t use them as boateses to call up storms to sink the fishermums,” Tomasin said quite seriously.
That was a new one.
“Cee witches?” Danny asked.
“Sea witches?” Tomasin broke another egg, a little viciously, no sea witch was using that as a boat.
::Sea? Like the giant lakes of pre-history?:: Danny asked.
A firm image of a dog-eared copy of a copy of a map flittered across Steve’s thoughts, pre-cataclysm Velgarth, the lands of split by the Sea of Soren.
::Diplomat Little’s story? Along with The Fell?:: Steve said.
::Maybe this sharing thing wasn’t a good idea?:: Danny thought.
::I don’t thinking obliterating egg shells will harm anyone?::
Tomasin methodologically destroyed another egg shell. Steve pushed another on into her orbit with his fingertip. She pounced on it.
::But another horror story will upset Tomasin:: Danny thought.
::All Littles have nightmares:: Steve said, that all adults have nightmares went unspoken.
::That’s remarkably sanguine::
Steve stuck his tongue out at him.
“And that’s juvenile.” Danny responded.
Steve crossed his eyes, drawing a giggle from Tomasin and a smile from Silence. Danny wiped his mouth with a napkin – breakfast finished. Setting the napkin aside, he stood. He paused a beat, mentally winding up for the day.
“Right, I’m going to see The Hierophant,” Danny drew in a fortifying breath. “I’ll catch up with you, Steve, at noon, there’s no Court. What are you up to?”
“Jafjson first thing and then I’ll go see Brick,” Steve said. Jafjson had requested what promised to be the first of regular King’s Own and First Minister catch ups. Steve had automatically decided to see Brick afterwards, needing to balance Jafjson’s slimy politics with Brick’s klah-bitter, straightforward way.
“Meet at the Weaponsmaster’s?” Danny confirmed.
“That works.” Exercise before breaking for lunch was always sensible. If Creed had determined that he and Danny needed to work on the pattern of their defence and offence to attacks, Steve accepted that wholeheartedly, and was prepared to prioritise that over all other duties.
“Silence?” Danny asked.
“Megan’s reading and ‘riting.” She said up straighter. “And we have to see Wēra.”
“Why Wēra?” Danny asked.
Silence chewed over her words, and then said carefully, “Wanna know about the Lune fest’. Figure it out.”
::What’s that about?” Danny asked Steve.
::Tell you later::
“Tomasin, what are you up to?” Danny smiled
“See the foals,” she said hopefully. “Pic’n?”
“After Creed,” Danny agreed.
~*~
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Date: 2019-03-16 10:24 am (UTC)FOALS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <3
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Date: 2019-03-17 05:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-17 05:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-03-25 01:04 am (UTC)LOVE. SO . Much LOVE