Drabble #204: Velvety

[jalenstrix]

...we had a nice response to my last posted drabble prompt of Drabble 200, with entries by redwolf and apachefirecat, and commenting by the fabulous redwolf, apachefirecat, and me (jalenstrix), one of your intrepid drabble proposers. Huzzah!

As always, special labyfic love to redwolf for adding entries and comments for several previous drabble prompts. Onward, drabblers, inspired by our redwolf!





For this prompt, we continue with our one-word/phrase drabble roots:

Velvety

Who or what is velvety? Please tell us all about it. Labyfic-style, of course.




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
$your_beautiful_drabble


I'll aim to get my next drabble challenge out on the first Friday of next month (May 2).

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. Authors generally write for love.)

Comments

Performative

[redwolf]

Word count: 500

Sarah had known that her meeting was going to be an ordeal, but the boredom was starting to sap her will to live.

As her guest hailed from another kingdom, Bishop sat at her side in his nightmarishly menacing shadow form. Sarah reached out to scratch her nails along his skull, pleasantly delighted to learn that, while he might look like a monster shaped void in reality, he still felt like a wolf and the velvety softness of his ears was all that was keeping her grounded.

With an inward sigh she tuned back into the wittering woman seated across from her, stifling a groan as she realised that she’d missed nothing. Like all fae women, she was ethereally beautiful and looked like a fragile doll that would break if you dared to take it out of its box. She held no illusions that the woman was as harmless as she seemed, but then Sarah’s offensive magic was a force to be reckoned with in its own right.

The performative nature of the meeting was what was frustrating Sarah, and it didn’t help that her guest had the emotional range of a mean girl who had peaked in high school who had never learned the social skills to negotiate the world as an adult. It was almost entertaining to listen to her clumsy attempts to alternately denigrate and then praise the Goblin Kingdom.

The woman’s sister was marrying a wealthy merchant and she planned to present them with household dinnerware that showcased the union. The only potential sticking point was glaze colours, but Bishop had softly huffed to confirm that the examples would be possible. Which just left a choice of pattern and if the woman didn’t select one quickly, Sarah wondered if she could claim it was a magical tic if she accidentally launched the woman from the balcony.

The most frustrating part of the meeting was that, while the woman felt she was commissioning custom ceramics, she didn’t realise that she was in the room with two talented ceramicists and that her request was well within the bounds of choices possible on the core collection. This would be just another product run for the goblins running the commercial side of the kingdom’s ceramics venture.

With a polite nod as she handed back the fabric swatches in the family colours, Sarah understood that this meeting was part of the story that would travel back to the wedded couple. No doubt it would be a much embroidered tale of how their brave sister had struck a cunning bargain with the terrifying Goblin Queen to bring them a gift of both beauty and utility that she had personally designed.

Sarah appreciated the worth of a good story as much as anyone, but when her role in the process put her at risk of being bored to death, she understood that it was like in the corporate world of bureaucracy Above, there were some meetings that could have been handled in writing.

Re: Performative

[jalenstrix]

I love this so much, with Sarah's practiced eye gauging both the fae woman and her juvenile request. Certain phrasing too: "wittering woman".

And so true about meetings that could be handled in writing.

Re: Performative

[redwolf]

Thanks! The wittering woman will never understand how close she came to being fed to goblins. 🦊🧡

Lies in the Night

[apachefirecat]

Word Count: 500



"Sarah, Sarah -- " His voice, as he croons her name, sounds like velvet, wrapping around her, sliding over her inside and out. It's as though she can feel his very touch, not just in her dreams but in reality, and he reaches beyond just her skin. He reaches into the very depths of her, coiling around the deepest fibers of her being.

If she was awake, she'd remind herself of the immense danger he represents, but here in her dreams... Here he offers her everything, anything, she could ever want. Her heartbeat echoes around them as his fingers wrap around the back of her throat. He could crack her neck very easily, but he doesn't just want her life. He wants her soul.

Sarah's body thrashes, but in her dreams, she can barely breathe. In her dreams, her lips open not with a protest but to call his name, to beg him for -- For what? she'd later come to ask herself yet again. Not for freedom. She never fought for, nor even cared about, her freedom in her dreams. She wanted him, ached for him, yearned for him with an intense burning far beyond anything else she'd ever felt before or will ever feel in the conscious world, in the boring world, in the world that warned her against the dreams of her true desires.

Her King's eyes glisten merrily. He knows she is his; she will always be his. She no longer has any desire left to fight him, not in her dreams at least... He chuckles softly, his breath hot, warm, almost real against her lips as he bends his regal head to take her lips with his.

It is just as his lips touch hers that Sarah wakes, gasping, a scream on her lips where his were. She bolts upright in bed, clutching her sweat-slicked sheets. But he's gone. He's always gone. If her mind was clear, she might notice that her window is open, a breeze rustling her curtains. If she were to move those curtains, she might even be in time to spot the silhouette of an owl against the full moon's silver light.

But instead, she reaches for the world of the humans. She reaches for the lies she's been told in this, the world of her birth. She reaches for what the doctors to whom her father and stepmother are constantly feeding every bit of their fortune. They've all been lied to, but lies are never stronger than when fear grips human hearts.

Her heartbeat hammering in her own ears, Sarah reaches, with trembling hands, for what she's been told again and again will keep her sane, will keep her safe in this world where she does not need dreams. Her hands continue to shake as she pours the pills into them. Her throat is dry to the point of almost choking as she shovels them into her mouth. They will help, that's what they've said; they will keep her free.



The End

Re: Lies in the Night

[redwolf]

It seems like Sarah is just delaying the inevitable by continuing to try and keep the emotional rollercoaster at bay with drugs 🦊🧡

Re: Lies in the Night

[jalenstrix]

So seconded. The real question is when it will come to a crashing head, and collapse away catastrophically.