#a bit Spooked and Jumpy and Uncertain

[galactia]

anonymous asked:

A note was left upon Kaeya’s desk one day, with naught but a bit of black twine to hold its rolled-up form in place around a glittering piece of crystal. My Starlit Prince. Too long have you been hidden from us, but we have finally found you. When you are ready to come home, the crystal will show you the way. ( @touchofdawn )

Kaeya looked at the note as though it might stare back, with eyes that looked beyond the world as he knew it, to something darker, perhaps not sinister (though he doubted it) but, if nothing else, unwanted. He rolled the stone off the paper, frozen for a moment as he watched it shine in the shafts of sunlight that slanted in through his office windows. A sliver of curiosity, detached from the emotion aching in his chest, wondered what would happen if he touched it. Would it glow? Would it burn in his hand? What resonance with Khaenri'an blood did it possess, and more importantly, was it even real?

Starlit Prince, they called him. There was next to no one who knew the true history of his bloodline: not royalty, but regency and the last Khaenri'an bloodline that held any claim to the throne. A claim to ash and ruin. The very inclusion of such an inference meant this note was no prank.

How he wished it could be.

That evening Kaeya sat at the Angel's Share bar, nursing a Death After Noon. A single one, his first of the night. He seemed-... restless, at least in thought, fingers idly tracing the cusp of his glass and worrying at the coin that showed years of fidgeting in its divots and smooth patches.

As the customers began to trickle out and the hour ticked later, his gaze strayed to Diluc. They'd exchanged very little as far as banter this evening - a remark here and there, and beyond that nothing, except he'd felt Diluc's eyes on him more than once. He'd made no sign that what he needed was urgent, but Kaeya had staid nonetheless.

Now, as bell at the door rang behind the last patron and he heard Diluc turn the lock, Kaeya reached into his pocket and produced a rolled letter and a handkerchief. He laid them out and nudged away the fabric as Diluc rounded the bar,

"I received this today, left on my desk at the Ordo. I-... considered it as a prank, but despite how succinct it is in wording, there is no one in Mond or its surrounding who would... know my lineage."

Kaeya looked at Diluc, watching, "I-... " There was an inhale of hesitation, a breath that wavered on something that he continued through, "...don't want to keep secrets from you, not about this. And I-"

Fear. The word fear was like ash in his mouth and died there, on his tongue. He blinked, and a smile flickered, full of defensive and self-directed humor, "am not convinced of the writer's good intentions. At least not as far as my own loyalties lie."

Kaeya picked, absently, at a bauble on his coat, "But first, there is something you should know, about the Alberich heritage. About my heritage."

[roseravenkey]

Rider Challenge #12: Reflect

@thescorpioracesfestival

It takes ages to get away from the beach after the race. People everywhere are congratulating me. Not that I don’t enjoy that, but I want to get home and clean up Sleipnir’s face. By this point, the blood has leaked all the way down his jawbone and is slowly dripping off his chin. Taking note of this, I finish up on the beach as quickly as is acceptable. I say my goodbyes to Rea, telling her we’d meet up the next day to chat about everything. I then start the walk home with Sleipnir while Sebs takes the car. It’s quite slow. Sleipnir’s blinded by the blood on one side and this makes him jumpy. He spooks at everything on his blind side. He’s a mixture of trotting in place beside me and taking slow cautious steps in the times he’s calmed down a bit. I can’t blame him. I’d freak out if I couldn’t see.

We finally reach home. It’s starting to go dark and the adrenaline from the race has worn off a little, making me feel the cold much more harshly. I see the warm light in the house, but I can’t go in yet. I have things to do. I sigh and lead Sleipnir into the barn. Dor calls out softly as I turn the lights on and Sleipnir hums back. Tying my stallion up with a headcollar outside his stall, I untack him and hose him down over his sweaty chest and flanks. I use the spray to wash the kicked up sand off his belly and legs, taking extra time on his feathers. I check his hooves for signs of wear and see none. I then get to work on his bloody face. I can’t see the extent of the wounds yet. The blood coating his face prevents it. I can’t see if that mare’s teeth got his eye or not. Sleipnir’s squinting, but wouldn’t you if blood was in it. I scratch his neck and jog to the house in search of warm water, grabbing a bucket on my way out.

“How’s he doing?” Sebs inquires as I step over the doormat. 

“I’m not sure yet. Need to sponge him off a bit before I can see the damage properly.” I answer. “I’m not too worried about him though. He had plenty of energy on the way home!”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. Hey you want help holding him still while you clean him up, Champion?” I’m not gonna lose that nickname anytime soon, and I don’t intend to. I quite like it. I can still hardly believe I won the race! It’s like something from a novel or film, it’s unreal! I chuckle.

“Yeah, that would be great, Brother-of-the-Champion.”

So I fill up the bucket with warm tap water and grab a clean sponge from under the sink. There’s a first aid kit already in the barn so I’ll get bandages from there if I need them. Sebs puts on his boots and follows me out to the barn.

I motion for Sebs to go in front if my capall and hold him still by the headcollar. He does and I load my sponge with the clean water and get to cleaning out my beloved stallion’s eye first. I squeeze out the sponge over him and the water runs down his face, thinning out the red and allowing me to see that his eye has no direct damage to it. He’ll be able to see perfectly clearly again once all the blood’s cleaned up. I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. I use the water while it’s still clear to finish rinsing the blood out of his eye. He’s standing surprisingly still while I do this. But then again, the capaill uisce spend their lives with water in their eyes. When it comes to the actual wounds that’s a different story. I’m trying to be as gentle as I can while still being efficient. The mare’s teeth punctured his skin both above and below his eye. It’s a miracle she didn’t damage anything permanently. 

Sleipnir jerks away from my touch as I press the wet sponge to his cuts. Sebs does his best to hold him still as possible but with the power of the capall it’s not really a fair fight. Still, stubborn as my brother is, he never lets go of the headcollar and always brings Sleipnir’s head back in front of me when he moves away. It takes a while, but I manage to clean out the wounds, and wipe the blood off my capall’s cheek and jaw. He almost looks presentable again. He may scar a little but that’s no matter. All through this time Sebs is silent. He just quietly watches me work while holding Sleipnir as still as he can. To finalise my process I wander over to the first aid box’s place on a shelf and take it down. I open the lid and pull out a tube of antiseptic cream. I put a little on my hand and put it onto the cuts on Sleipnir’s face. I can tell it stings him, but he takes it with only minor complaints which surprises the both of us. I bandage up the deeper of the wounds as best I can without covering his eye to stop the last of the bleeding. It’s slowed down incredibly, but I don’t want anything getting in there and messing up my cleaning work. My brother and I both step back and admire my handiwork. 

“There. Not bad, eh?” I say.

“Not bad at all! Hey. Did I say that Mum rang?”

“No... Why? Wait. Do I want to know?” It’s known that my parents worry about me racing. Especially Mum. 

“It’s not that bad. She just wanted to know you’d survived.”

“And...?” I press, coming to stand in front of my brother. His growing smirk was not a comfort to me. 

“I told her you came in first. She wanted to talk to you but I told her you were busy being a Champion and couldn’t come to the phone...”

“AND?!” It was starting to get irritating now.

“She wants us to go over for tea. To celebrate. I said you’d be delighted.”

“WHAT!?” Dinner at my family’s was always an event. Someone was always a diva and everyone always fell out in some way or another. Like last time. I see Sebs laughing.

“Wait. You didn’t did you?” I ask, uncertain.

“Of course not you melon. If you went I’d have to go too. I told her that you’d ring back.”

“Oh thank the gods!” I sigh, relieved. I lightly punch my brother in the chest and move past him to put Sleipnir away. I finish up in the barn and we wander back to the house together. As we’re taking our boots of I say, “Hey Sebs. You know that you didn’t believe in me and I was gonna die for sure in the races?”

“I didn’t say that at all but go on...”

“Pfft. Well anyway. I said I was gonna be fine and I hate to say I told you so, but... I TOLD YOU SO!” I laugh and start to run away, but my brother grabs my leg and trips me up so I land face first on the carpet. I squirm away and crawl backwards shouting in mirth, “How’s first place for ya!?” He tackles me to the ground and I squeal as he pins me down.

“Eww. You stink, Tessie.” He says, wrinkling his nose. “Go shower and then we’ll talk.” We both laugh as he lets me up and I skip upstairs, ignoring the ache starting up in my muscles. I look in the mirror and see that Sebs wasn’t wrong. I’m covered in dirt and sand. There’s Sleipnir’s blood spattered on my hands and face. Helmet hair doesn’t even begin to describe it. There’s all kinds of dirt in the windswept tangles. I can feel the grime of sand and sea spray in it. I may as well be wearing the island. There’s also a wild look in my eyes I can’t place. Is it the exhilaration of the race? Or possibly the joy of winning? I don’t know, but I like it. I run the bath and hang a big fluffy towel on the radiator to warm up while I wash. I turn the taps off once the bath is full, undress and sink into the hot water. I relax and think about the day’s events. I’d closed my eyes as we’d crossed the finish line, but apparently we’d won by just a nose. The other rider’s just behind us. It was so close. I’m proud. Proud of myself. Proud of my horse. Proud of us.