15 min fic - word 23
Jul. 16th, 2007 08:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Character Sketch
Fandom/original: Original (Rhedrah)
Characters: Zoyala Colsirdi
Rating: G
Word count: 350
He had been an artist. That was something you didn’t fake, a hard lie that there was no gain from telling. She stood on the veranda where she’d seen him sketching, looking at the face of Silverymoon, now pockmarked with the side effects of battle. They had done well, but that didn’t mean the city wasn’t scarred. It would be. But for some reason, she found herself thinking of the man who, as far as she knew, was named Dilan.
If all went well, he’d think her dead, and she wondered if it was vain to think of whether or not he’d be sorry for it. To wonder whether he’d feel like she would if their feelings were reversed. It was odd, now, to think of him as a friend when they found themselves with such separate goals. When he’d helped her worst enemy. When he would, if all was well, believe her dead. And yet… and yet. He sketched, and he considered, and he had been one of the most intelligent men she’d ever met.
Her life as Fiona had no place for many things that had been important to Zoyala Colsirdi. She could not be a teacher, at least not until things abroad had been dealt with. She could not visit Selteran, she could not reconsider Isabella’s offer of titles and lands. She could not enjoy the easy freedom of familiarity she’d spent a decade building. For the first few nights, Fiona had found that she could not touch the sort of peaceful sleep Zoyala had finally won. She began to wonder whether friendship was something that Zoyala enjoyed but was out of reach for Fiona. She could only wait.
But even if she was resigned to put duty before personal feelings, she could not help missing the man who had constantly surprised her, and wondering what he would say to all this. Perhaps it was because she knew, in some ways, that he couldn’t be trusted that she trusted him. It said something about her, that she found it comforting, that way. She wondered what that something was.
Fandom/original: Original (Rhedrah)
Characters: Zoyala Colsirdi
Rating: G
Word count: 350
He had been an artist. That was something you didn’t fake, a hard lie that there was no gain from telling. She stood on the veranda where she’d seen him sketching, looking at the face of Silverymoon, now pockmarked with the side effects of battle. They had done well, but that didn’t mean the city wasn’t scarred. It would be. But for some reason, she found herself thinking of the man who, as far as she knew, was named Dilan.
If all went well, he’d think her dead, and she wondered if it was vain to think of whether or not he’d be sorry for it. To wonder whether he’d feel like she would if their feelings were reversed. It was odd, now, to think of him as a friend when they found themselves with such separate goals. When he’d helped her worst enemy. When he would, if all was well, believe her dead. And yet… and yet. He sketched, and he considered, and he had been one of the most intelligent men she’d ever met.
Her life as Fiona had no place for many things that had been important to Zoyala Colsirdi. She could not be a teacher, at least not until things abroad had been dealt with. She could not visit Selteran, she could not reconsider Isabella’s offer of titles and lands. She could not enjoy the easy freedom of familiarity she’d spent a decade building. For the first few nights, Fiona had found that she could not touch the sort of peaceful sleep Zoyala had finally won. She began to wonder whether friendship was something that Zoyala enjoyed but was out of reach for Fiona. She could only wait.
But even if she was resigned to put duty before personal feelings, she could not help missing the man who had constantly surprised her, and wondering what he would say to all this. Perhaps it was because she knew, in some ways, that he couldn’t be trusted that she trusted him. It said something about her, that she found it comforting, that way. She wondered what that something was.
