Ficlet: Lost

lost

Two friends see their situation very differently. Dialogue only fic for the writerverse prompt “lost”.

“We’re not lost.”

“Well, where are we then?”

“Heading north. We have to come out at the main trail again eventually, or the river and we can follow that back. The forest isn’t that big.”

“Big enough.”

“Don’t worry! Who was it who said that you can’t have an adventure if you’re always checking the map?”

“Someone who wasn’t tired, and cold, and bloody well starving.”

“I promise we’ll be back at the car before it gets dark, and there’s water and chocolate in the glove compartment. Just trust me.”

“Fine. But I still say we’re lost.”

“If you insist.”

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interlude: Stitches

Ficlet set pre WiP Sorceress Apprentice. 353 words. Bryony sews a dress for a customer. No warnings apply.

interludebryonystitiching

Interlude: stitching

Bryony stitched the seam of the dress with quick, efficient motions, her needle like a tiny silver sword piercing the dark velvet fabric. It reminded her of a painting she’d once seen, a school of dolphins dipping up from beneath the water’s surface before their graceful curved bodies disappeared beneath the waves once more.

She’d never seen the sea in person, let alone a dolphin, but she longed to. Yet the ocean was so very far away and she was just a seamstress without the means to pay for such a journey, let alone anywhere to stay to enjoy the scenery for a time.

The woman who would wear this dress could afford the journey. She’d made the order at the market Bryony and her sister, Kerine, had visited, their stalls set up side by side, the seamstress and the woodworker. These commissions were vital, the markets essential parts of finding customers.

The woman who’d chosen the design, picking the example dress Bryony had hanging from a rack showing the current popular styles, was taller and thinner than Bryony, her face and hair pale unlike Bryony’s dark looks, a noble beauty wearing jewels that sparkled in the sun. She’d handled the material samples with fingers that had never stitched or chopped wood or peeled vegetables, her skin as soft as the velvet she chose.

“I will wear it when we visit Greyville,” the woman said, naming a coastal town. “Lord Anders is holding a ball to celebrate the equinox.”

Bryony had said the right things, named her price and had it accepted without any haggling, taken measurements, and received a small deposit. This dress would be striking, low-cut, high-waisted, and flowing to mid-calf. The gold embroidery and seed pearls would draw attention to the cleavage. It would suit her client and hopefully impress the other guests at the ball.

What Bryony wouldn’t give to see the sea just once! But it was a ridiculous dream and so she poured her longing into her work, the needle threading its way through the material with ease and skill, the dress taking shape with every stitch.

Fiction: Bliss

bliss

The water looked deep and inviting

She stripped off down to her bikini and edged forward. She dipped one toe into the lake and gave an involuntary shriek when the water was much colder than she had expected.

It would be all right once she was fully immersed, she told herself sternly. Gathering up her nerve, she stepped out into the lake, ignoring the chill that ran through her, biting her lip. When the water was just above her waist, she ducked down so her shoulders sank beneath the water. Her teeth were chattering but, finally, she began to acclimatise.

She took a moment to appreciate the beauty of the location and then began to swim with long, elegant strokes. She was utterly alone, and blissfully content.

The House of Conrí

conri

Sometimes names are just names. Sometimes they are symbolic. Sometimes they’re more than that.

Thomas was thrown to the stone floor at the base of the steps. Despite his shackles he struggled to his knees, refusing to lie there complacent. He raised his bruised face defiantly and curled his lip, though that made the blood flow afresh.

“Your name?”

“Thomas Daniel,” he said proudly. He was named Thomas for his grandfather, a great hunter, and the family of Daniel had long served the rightful king. “Who are you?”

The woman sat on the throne atop the dais regarded him with brown eyes that were filled with distaste. “I am Queen Ameris, ruler of the House of Conrí.”
Continue reading The House of Conrí

Flash Fiction: The Dragon Savers

thedragonsavers

A flash fiction fantasy tale for a series of prompts (see notes at close of fic)

(base banner image by mconnors at Morguefile.com)

Once upon a time there was a fearsome dragon. It had lived peaceably near a village for years, the two separated by a thick forest. The dragon hunted mostly in the woods at night, and slept in the cave at the foot of the mountain range where few people travelled.

Continue reading Flash Fiction: The Dragon Savers