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kinkfestTitle: Bandages
Author/Artist:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
dethorats
Rating: G
Prompt: Circle of Magic, Lark/Rosethorn: shared magic -- we sew and sow together
Word count: 963
Notes: For June 19th. Set in the middle of Briar’s Book
Discipline cottage was quiet without their charges and Little Bear, almost too quiet given the circumstances. Rosethorn and Briar were only recently returned from their quarantine in Summersea and the girls and their pet had followed him first to the kitchens where dedicate Gorse would no doubt stuff them silly and then to the baths for a good scrubbing followed by a long soak in the communal pools. Confinement had chafed at Briar, as had being separated from the girls that were as close to him as sisters, and it would be good for them all to share a few hours of bonding amidst the trying times. Too, it meant that Lark and Rosethorn finally had a moment alone, a chance to reconnect even if they didn’t have the luxury of relaxing. Tomorrow Rosethorn was expected to begin helping Dedicate Crane, which made her even more prickly than usual, and Lark had kept her at the cottage only with much coaxing and the promise of work also necessary to fight the Blue Pox.
Bandages had filled most of Lark’s days while Rosethorn had been trapped in the sick house for the poor. That and reassuring the girls even as she fought against her own misgivings and fears for her companion. And it was bandages that kept Rosethorn by her side for a little while longer, the pair of them sitting outside on a pair of padded footstools. Rosethorn’s garden ran right up to where Lark had her sewing room and it was at that juncture that they had situated themselves. Flax and hemp plants grew there, taking advantage of dual magical affinity and flourishing. Still, healthy as the plants were, they were out of season. That was part of the problem. With so many disasters having struck Emelan in the past year, the magical bandages that Lark and some of the other dedicates with thread magic had made had been used up and there wasn’t even a steady supply of new bandages to infuse with healing. That was where Rosethorn came in.
As much as she didn’t like to do it, she could coax her plants into thinking it was another season, convince them it was time for harvest. And together they could coax the plants through a speeded-up retting so that Lark could spin it into thread and then weave it into bandages. Lark had her beater set up beside her and a deep basin carved of stone and filled with water sitting over raked coals rested between them. She waited patiently as Rosethorn dug her feet into the soil with the roots of her plants, a warm green glow suffusing the petite woman as Lark looked at her with magical sight. The flax and hemp responded eagerly to her coaxing, shooting upward and first blooming and then developing seeds. When the stalks began to turn yellow, a process of only a few minutes, Rosethorn opened her eyes and reached out to begin gently tugging the plants free from the soil.
Seeds and roots and leaves fell away with just a touch from Rosethorn’s hand and she absently passed bunches over to Lark who wordlessly took them and bound them into bundles. The entire crop was harvested in less than an hour, partly thanks to Rosethorn’s magic and partly because Lark could only make so many bandages of that type before her magic was depleted.
“Rosie,” she said with a smile, pulling up the sleeve of her habit. Rosethorn huffed out a sigh and followed suit, placing her hand over Lark’s as the woman held out her hand, a bundle in her grasp. Their fingers wove together as they plunged the bundle of flax into the warm water. Lark could feel Rosethorn’s magic, green and so very strong, as it coiled vine-like around the golden spindle that was her own core of power. Together they worked, coaxing the plant into becoming thread; their magic merged as they suffused it through the water and sunk it deep into the submerged bundle. Over and over they repeated the process, their joined hands solidly connected as Lark’s free one removed finished bundles and replaced them with more to be worked.
Through their combined magic, at the back edges of her senses, Lark could feel Rosethorn’s tiredness, her stress and worry, and she teased at it, coaxing it away as best as she could beneath the stronger ribbons of their main task. She replaced it with strength and flexibility and all the love and admiration she had for the woman who shared her home, her life. Rosethorn didn’t say anything but she was slow to drop Lark’s hand when the last bundle was retted, which left the remainder of the work to Lark. Finally she let go, permitting herself in the privacy of their home to sag a bit on the stool as Lark began to beat the fibers free so that she could comb and then spin them into the thread that she would at last weave into bandages infused with healing magic.
Lark didn’t notice when Rosethorn stepped away, too caught up in the work that was rather complicated at the speed at which she proceeded, but she did appreciate the tea that returned with Rosethorn and the strong tanned hands that rested on her shoulders as she began to spin. The sun was setting when the last of the bandages were finished and the children were back, Daja and Tris preparing supper. It was a tired smile that Lark sent across the table to Rosethorn but a satisfied one as well and it was with heartfelt words that she bowed her head and led them all in thanksgiving, making sure to thank the gods for Briar and Rosethorn’s safe return to their home.
Author/Artist:
dethoratsRating: G
Prompt: Circle of Magic, Lark/Rosethorn: shared magic -- we sew and sow together
Word count: 963
Notes: For June 19th. Set in the middle of Briar’s Book
Discipline cottage was quiet without their charges and Little Bear, almost too quiet given the circumstances. Rosethorn and Briar were only recently returned from their quarantine in Summersea and the girls and their pet had followed him first to the kitchens where dedicate Gorse would no doubt stuff them silly and then to the baths for a good scrubbing followed by a long soak in the communal pools. Confinement had chafed at Briar, as had being separated from the girls that were as close to him as sisters, and it would be good for them all to share a few hours of bonding amidst the trying times. Too, it meant that Lark and Rosethorn finally had a moment alone, a chance to reconnect even if they didn’t have the luxury of relaxing. Tomorrow Rosethorn was expected to begin helping Dedicate Crane, which made her even more prickly than usual, and Lark had kept her at the cottage only with much coaxing and the promise of work also necessary to fight the Blue Pox.
Bandages had filled most of Lark’s days while Rosethorn had been trapped in the sick house for the poor. That and reassuring the girls even as she fought against her own misgivings and fears for her companion. And it was bandages that kept Rosethorn by her side for a little while longer, the pair of them sitting outside on a pair of padded footstools. Rosethorn’s garden ran right up to where Lark had her sewing room and it was at that juncture that they had situated themselves. Flax and hemp plants grew there, taking advantage of dual magical affinity and flourishing. Still, healthy as the plants were, they were out of season. That was part of the problem. With so many disasters having struck Emelan in the past year, the magical bandages that Lark and some of the other dedicates with thread magic had made had been used up and there wasn’t even a steady supply of new bandages to infuse with healing. That was where Rosethorn came in.
As much as she didn’t like to do it, she could coax her plants into thinking it was another season, convince them it was time for harvest. And together they could coax the plants through a speeded-up retting so that Lark could spin it into thread and then weave it into bandages. Lark had her beater set up beside her and a deep basin carved of stone and filled with water sitting over raked coals rested between them. She waited patiently as Rosethorn dug her feet into the soil with the roots of her plants, a warm green glow suffusing the petite woman as Lark looked at her with magical sight. The flax and hemp responded eagerly to her coaxing, shooting upward and first blooming and then developing seeds. When the stalks began to turn yellow, a process of only a few minutes, Rosethorn opened her eyes and reached out to begin gently tugging the plants free from the soil.
Seeds and roots and leaves fell away with just a touch from Rosethorn’s hand and she absently passed bunches over to Lark who wordlessly took them and bound them into bundles. The entire crop was harvested in less than an hour, partly thanks to Rosethorn’s magic and partly because Lark could only make so many bandages of that type before her magic was depleted.
“Rosie,” she said with a smile, pulling up the sleeve of her habit. Rosethorn huffed out a sigh and followed suit, placing her hand over Lark’s as the woman held out her hand, a bundle in her grasp. Their fingers wove together as they plunged the bundle of flax into the warm water. Lark could feel Rosethorn’s magic, green and so very strong, as it coiled vine-like around the golden spindle that was her own core of power. Together they worked, coaxing the plant into becoming thread; their magic merged as they suffused it through the water and sunk it deep into the submerged bundle. Over and over they repeated the process, their joined hands solidly connected as Lark’s free one removed finished bundles and replaced them with more to be worked.
Through their combined magic, at the back edges of her senses, Lark could feel Rosethorn’s tiredness, her stress and worry, and she teased at it, coaxing it away as best as she could beneath the stronger ribbons of their main task. She replaced it with strength and flexibility and all the love and admiration she had for the woman who shared her home, her life. Rosethorn didn’t say anything but she was slow to drop Lark’s hand when the last bundle was retted, which left the remainder of the work to Lark. Finally she let go, permitting herself in the privacy of their home to sag a bit on the stool as Lark began to beat the fibers free so that she could comb and then spin them into the thread that she would at last weave into bandages infused with healing magic.
Lark didn’t notice when Rosethorn stepped away, too caught up in the work that was rather complicated at the speed at which she proceeded, but she did appreciate the tea that returned with Rosethorn and the strong tanned hands that rested on her shoulders as she began to spin. The sun was setting when the last of the bandages were finished and the children were back, Daja and Tris preparing supper. It was a tired smile that Lark sent across the table to Rosethorn but a satisfied one as well and it was with heartfelt words that she bowed her head and led them all in thanksgiving, making sure to thank the gods for Briar and Rosethorn’s safe return to their home.
