jalenstrix (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jalenstrix) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
labyfic2020-11-06 03:43 pm
jalenstrix) wrote in labyfic2020-11-06 03:43 pm
Entry tags:
Drabble #98: Unsettled
...we had a quieter response to the drabble prompt of Drabble 97, with an entry by me (your intrepid drabble proposer
jalenstrix).For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:
Unsettled
What's unsettled (or unsettling)? Who's unsettled? Is this physical upset, emotional turmoil, intellectual miasma, all of the above, or something else entirely? Tell us all about it labyfic-style!
Given our entries from recent months, let's continue with the suggested limit for this month of 500 words. Though remember that shorter pieces are most definitely welcome!
Your entry should take the following format, posted as a comment on this entry:
Word count: # of words
Drabble: $your_beautiful_drabble
I'll aim to get the next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (December 4).
I'm also very happy to take suggestions if something in particular strikes your fancy -- comment on this post or PM me with your suggestions. You can see our current collected suggestions here.
Remember: Feedback is LOVE. So do reply to your fellow labyficcers' drabbles if so inclined. (Though be careful of concrit unless specifically okayed by the author beforehand.)
no subject
Drabble:
Jareth rubbed the bridge of his nose. “The affected area is gargantuan, and smells of sour strawberry milkshake.” He glowered briefly in the direction of Feanor’s nursery.
I sighed. “It’s not his fault and you know it. He had unexpected psychic trauma, he’s connected to the kingdom just like you are, and he’s coping the best he can. Also, he’s two.”
Jareth took a slow breath through a clenched jaw. “It will take significant effort to clean up this mess.”
I crossed my arms. “And we all know exactly whose feet to lay said mess at. It just so happens that your mother has defensive spells that prevent dropping large sections of your kingdom in front of her. Or on her.” Which was certainly my preference.
Jareth arched an eyebrow. “You always blame my mother.”
“That’s because she’s a menace.”
Jareth’s eyebrow arched even further.
“Let’s see...” I began ticking off my fingers. “There was the time with the poisonous birthday spider--”
“Feanor killed it handily--”
“--the assassin-riddled play session in her garden --”
“--which he escaped by using his new invisibility cloak--”
“--the suddenly-appearing moat full of kelpies--”
“--which caused him to deploy an excellent jumping spell--”
“--the biting pixie brigade that blew in on a wind from just the direction of her realm--”
“--he used a brilliantly offensive Bog cloud on them--”
“--and now this business with the psionic attack mages at that damned amusement park--”
“--he activated the emergency teleport spell in time—”
“--and that was just within the last month.” I threw up my hands. “No wonder she keeps doing it. You’re encouraging her.”
“You can’t coddle him, Sarah. He’s Faerie royalty, and we don’t play nice.”
“He’s my two-year-old son, and his grandmother’s trying to kill him at every opportunity, with your apparent blessing.”
He shrugged. “She’s trying to help. We must learn survival young in my family.”
I closed my eyes, tried to unclench my fists, and consoled myself with visions of dropping pieces of the Labyrinth on Jareth’s mother.
Jareth’s wintry spice scent enveloped me, and I felt his hands smooth their way down my arms, dancing over my skin in familiar patterns.
His voice was the honeyed comfort of home, layered over the icy steel of Faerie I’d come to rely on. “You knew all this when you agreed to marry me, love.”
I leaned my head into him. “But I didn’t have our baby son then.” The tension spiking through me broke beneath his touch into hot tears at the corners of my eyes. “I didn’t know it would feel like this.”
Jareth’s mouth hovered next to my ear, murmuring velvety certainty into me. “He will survive it. You must be strong. Have faith in our son.”
I sighed into his chest. “Can we at least send your mother a piece of that stinking Labyrinth section, with love, from Feanor?”
He laughed softly. “That, I’m sure we could manage.”
no subject
no subject
Descant
Drabble:
“Here’s another one.” Bishop made a notation on a scrap of paper and marked the place in the book for Sarah’s later reference.
Sarah sighed. “I hope that’s the last one I’ll need for this essay. Thank you.” She smiled across the table where her dark, elegant guardsman was sitting, his attention had drifted to the other occupants of the room, a fond expression on his face.
Jareth and Rook had been deep in a discussion when Sarah had entered the room, with something unpleasantly discordant playing over their conversation. Jareth had politely raised a magical sound barrier to allow Sarah to study without distraction and she now mirrored Bishop’s expression. Jareth and Rook both had a deep love for music, but of the two, Jareth had gotten all of the musical abilities, however this discrepancy in talent did little to stop them sharing that love. Their current antics didn’t look like a duet so much as a pair of goofballs yelling at each other in a wildly elaborate game of charades.
Sarah put her pen down. “And that’s my draft done.” The paper in front of her was littered with edits and notations, but she needed to set it aside and let the content sink in before tackling a final revision.
Lack of movement from the other side of the room caught her attention and she turned to see that the pair now faced each other. Rook had the fingers of one hand buried in Jareth’s hair, with the others against his throat, while he held her waist. An oddly stilted conversation was winding up and they looked utterly gleeful as they turned to Sarah and Bishop, Jareth dropping the barrier with a gesture. “Rook’s partner called. He’s secured us tickets to a secret gig.”
Sarah loved that Jareth’s musical appreciation brought him so much joy, but the finer points were mostly lost on her. However, one thing wasn’t. “What do you mean? Bishop’s sitting right here.”
“Ah, my apologies,” Jareth looked down with an impish grin, before tilting his head up to look at Sarah through his hair. “I meant, her partner Above.”
“Rook’s married?” Sarah hadn’t given much thought to the lives of the guardsmen beyond their positions. She knew that Rook and Bishop had voluntarily put their lives Above on hold until she was fully settled Underground, after which they would return to their usual rotation with the other domestic guardsmen, but they’d never mentioned any family ties. “Hang on, her partner called? Just then? How is that possible?”
“It was a gift from an old friend. I patched Jareth in via bone conduction and subvocalisation.” Rook may have thought that was a perfectly logical explanation, but it would have made more sense to Sarah if she’d just said it was magic at work. She glared at the pair, wondering if she’d have a better chance of extracting a sane explanation from this mysterious partner without a frustrating round of trying to use her right words.
Re: Descant
Re: Descant