Alder's Grove

The meme is here: Give me the names of two characters and I will tell you why character A loves character B.

Here is kelkyag's third prompt. Beryl and Stone are from the Aunt Family.

Beryl knew how most girls at school were with their big brothers.

In her opinion, much of that was because their big brothers were big jerks, but she had noticed that was the way family dynamics seemed to flow, outside of the Family.

(She made an informal study of such things, because she didn't really want to marry a cousin, should she end up marrying someone, and so she didn't want to be lost the way her father said he'd been, way back when.)

But Stone wasn't like that. Stone helped her with her homework, and, once, showed her how to cast a charm so her worst bully tripped over his feet every time he got close. And they talked about spellwork together, and she showed him secret tarot spreads and tricks with the tea leaves.

She told him Maddy Spinner was no good for him, too, but she was pretty sure any sister would've done that.

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A long time ago

"Don't mind them."

The fur-taker looked up to see a man filling her doorway, wings spread, carrying something on a tray. Bowls, mugs - whatever it was, it smelled good.

"Come in," she offered weakly. The threshold here was so much less than her swamp, so thin she was fairly certain it held only out of courtesy. Even in her little house in the Village, Regine's magic weighed heavily. In here, in her office...

It was nice of him to pretend, anyway.

"You're Luca, aren't you? The Hunting Hawk."

"And you're the pelt-taker. Regine said you're using the name 'Shira' here?" He stepped inside and closed the door with his foot.

"It's close enough." The Fur-taker wondered if she ought to be worried, but he was not giving off any sense of menace or danger, spread wings or no.

"The others..." He sat down and put the tray between them on a small table. Stew. And tea. "Don't mind them."

"You said that already." Which meant he had more meaning in mind than the words themselves held.

"They're..." He shrugged. "... Fancy."

The fur-taker smirked. "And I am not." She plucked at the hem of her sleeve, a loaned outfit - from Luca here, not from one of the women - and comfortable.

"I'm not, either. But it suits us. They're not sure about seers. The pure-bloods, they don't like what they don't understand."

The fur-taker smiled her sharp smile, the one that said life is hard. "And they understand so little. But you." She looked at him, Looked at him, and nodded. "You understand too much. Be ware, Hawk, or it will cripple you."

It would, she already saw it. But there were paths in which it would free him, too.

The meme is here: Give me the names of two characters and I will tell you why character A loves character B.

Here is chanter_greenie's first prompt.

The meme is here: Give me the names of two characters and I will tell you why character A loves character B.

Here is kelkyag's second prompt. Rosaria and Willard are from the Aunt Family, as per the tree below.



Rosaria and Willard

Rosaria had brothers. She had sons, she had a father. She had had, for a while, a husband, although that seemed like a very long time ago.

So when she tried on "I love him like this," like a father, like a brother, like a son, she knew of what she was speaking. And none of them quite fit.

She had other nephews, too, and she could not say that she felt for any of them what she felt for Willard. Willard was - he was different, and not just because of the spark. He was important, and not just because the family had severed him from their embrace and their power. He was her friend, and that... that was what had saved them.

"He should be gone from you," Elenora had complained. Elenora was the sort that would complain about that. "He is gone from the family, and yet I can see you're still writing to him. You're still pining over him."

"He's gone as my nephew." She lifted her chin and glared at Elenora, glared at her Aunt, at the Aunt and dared her to challenge that. My nephew sounded strange when she was still so young, but that was what he had been, and in their family, that was a special bond. "You severed that. But he was my friend. And he is still my friend. He will always be that, no matter how far away he is."

In continuation of the second story here from over a year ago.

Ib woke not in pain. He woke not aching everywhere, not unable to move. He woke.

He woke, which meant he wasn't dead. That in itself was a bit of a shocker. The last time he'd had a beat-down like this - close to this, there hadn't been as much bone-snapping that time - he'd ended up in the hospital for weeks and in agony for months.

Today, he had a little pain in his lungs and his throat was a bit raw. That... that was not how this worked.

He looked up at the big guy in the doorway. Baram looked sort of like unfinished clay, like someone had lumped him together and then forgotten to glaze or bake him. He also looked like anyone going through the door would have to go straight through him. The doctor would have had to go through him to get to Ib; maybe she'd gone through the wall. That seemed like the safer option.
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For the meme I posted Wednesday night here and here (feel free to leave pairings now if you want; I'm having fun.

"Come on, man." Rozen grabbed Baram by the arm. "Party tonight."

"Party? It's Tues..." He shut up, but not before he saw the look the bigger guy shot him. "Right. Party. Whose place?"

"Ardell's. His Keptie seems to like cuddling with you."

"No-one likes cuddling with me."

"Hey, man, Annie's not bad, and everyone knows you're not as rough as you look." Rozen punched his shoulder. "You'll do fine. You always do."

more here: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/493490.html
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For the meme I posted last night here and here

"I love you, man."

Porter had been drinking. At least, Arundel hoped he'd been drinking - there'd been a dance. There were lots of things at Addergoole and more things at Addergoole dances that could make someone slur and wobble like that.

"I know you do." Sylvia was already back in the suite; Arundel had gone looking for his friend.

"That girl, she said I should love her, but I said, don't be silly. I'm not into... you know."

"I know, buddy." Yep, something other than booze. He'd have to tell Sylvia the succubi were trying again.

"But you're my best friend."

"Always will be. Here, open a Door?"

Later, he thought perhaps that hadn't been the best thing to ask a soused and besotted Porter.

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For the meme I posted last night here and here, though I just realized I flipped the third one. Guess it's a freebie!

Morrigan lay in bed, pressed up against Reid's body, watching him sleep. When he slept, he didn't pull away from her. When he truly slept, sometimes helped along by a nudge from their doctor, his body relaxed, and she could see how young he was.

She was going to keep him. She'd already known that when she hauled him into her van. She was going to keep him, because he was so strong, so brilliant, and so utterly vulnerable.

He made her want to take responsibility. He made her want to be a grown-up.

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