turn by turn

[sideways]

Title: Turn by Turn
AO3: Link
Rating: G
Series: Books of the Raksura
Wordcount: 1,326
Summary: 3(ish) sentence fics about the court of Indigo Cloud.
Remarks: The 3 Sentence Ficathon came and went throughout February, and for once I managed to have a crack at a few prompts! Then the Raksura bug bit and I wrote a few more again. Ended up with seven fills for this little fandom, which isn't too shabby at all.

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Prompt: Moon/Jade/Chime, perfect peace.

It's not as though he isn't aware there are changes: Chime stumbles down next to him from his blind spot while he's eating and Moon doesn't startle and spring away, but simply tears his flatbread in two and offers the half; he wakes to the feel of claws pricking at the nape of his neck and doesn't stiffen and draw lips back over teeth, just exhales softly and arches his spine under the gentle drag of Jade's fingers.

 

It's difficult to define something he's never felt, though (except, perhaps, in a long ago memory of squirming, soft-scented bodies and a humming in his chest, so warm and muzzy it might only be a dream), so it's not surprising that he notices what's missing before he realises what's replaced it.

 

He finds it here, in the heart of his court, watching Chime bend over a map and trace out the pathway of their journey to the Reaches for the benefit of an inquisitive Fern; feeling the low rumbles of Rain's mock-growls as he fights a war against his own tail in his father's lap; and watching Jade suddenly lift her head and raise an eyebrow in that dry, bemused, beautiful way of hers that is the only reason Moon realises he is humming the faded tune of ancient contentment aloud.


Open prompt: Can you taste the difference?

The days leading up to a visit from another Court were always a trial, and when it was Emerald Twilight in question it was a hundred times worse; Moon lowered the steaming cup to look up into the crowded circle of faces fixed intently on him and barely resisted the urge to bolt the entire thing back and run.

 

"It's..." he said, trying to focus on the aftertaste of the tea instead the doorway to his left, which was two wingbeats too far away for an easy escape anyway, "saltier?"

 

"Salty?" Heart wailed, which started a chain reaction of babbling queries and rustling book pages and impatient hands that snatched the cup from his grasp, and somewhere during the increasingly fierce debate on the merits of ground pepper-bulb Moon slipped out to seek brief refuge somewhere dark, high up, and absent of Arbora.


Prompt: Frost & Pearl, where are you going?

The ironic twist in Pearl's query pulled Frost short, just as it pulled her spines up in an instinctive flare as she turned to meet the reigning queen's sharp, cool stare; beside her, Cobalt jumped nervously and ducked a half-step behind.

 

Frost's birthqueen hadn't been anything like Pearl: she had been loud, warm-humoured, and had loved telling stories almost as much as any mentor - and she had died in the stairwell leading to the nurseries, a mountain of savage, bloodied emerald barely glimpsed amongst the rest of the horrors on display in that mad, desperate scramble.

 

Frost drew in a breath, settling her spines as much as she could and drawing her claws back inside their sheaths, and said, "The Sunset Water consort wishes to see the libraries, so I thought I'd escort him," holding Pearl's gaze until she offered a snort and a flick of a spine in dismissal; and as Frost grabbed Cobalt's wrist to begin dragging him across the hall, the heady swell of triumph and satisfaction came more from the knowing acceptance she'd glimpsed in those eyes than the admiring look currently in the consort's.


Prompt: Moon & Stone, closer than breathing.

Stone's breathing was a loud rasp right in Moon's ear, and it was taking effort not to twitch on every exhale - there wasn't enough room in the cramped rocky hollow they were sheltering in to go shuffling around every time the urge took.

 

Aeriat weren't meant for small, tight spaces with no easy access to the sky (though Moon thought it was a little easier for him, having lived in all sorts of groundling structures, than for Stone, who hadn't really had to go anywhere he didn't want to since he had grown large enough to sit on whatever idiot tried to make him). If he'd been squashed in here with someone who lacked Stone's self-control he would have been a lot more worried - of course, if he had been squashed in here with someone who wasn't Stone he wouldn't have had to worry about the chances of an uncontrolled shift turning them both into lumpy paste to begin with.

 

Stone jostled against him briefly, the barest concession to the tense restlessness he had to be feeling, and so Moon said the first thing that came to mind: "The new tea blend the Arbora are experimenting with is supposed to make your breath smell like berries - you should really give it a try," and accepted the mirthless huff and sharp elbow to the side with some relief.


Open prompt - alone.

"Do you really think I don't understand how it feels to not belong?" Chime said mulishly, and Moon didn't know how they'd gotten into the start of an argument but he could tell from the irritable set to the former mentor's jaw as his head lifted from the cushion of his folded arms and the way his shoulders hunched around absent spines that it was the kind of disagreement that could go on for hours, and abruptly he was so sick and tired of the topic that it might have done so already.

 

"I think you can complain to me about not fitting in," Moon snapped, "when Flower or Bell or the others decide to try and break your wings and throw you off a cliff, or poison you and stake you out as a convenient snack for a predator."

 

He regretted it the instant surprise washed Chime's face clean of all unkind feeling; and regretted it even more as the eyes rounded further still and Chime said in a confused, appalled way, "Wait, that's- You're not joking, you mean-?" and in the last few seconds before pity made its inevitable appearance Moon rolled sharply away from the hearth and onto his feet, stalking for space open enough that he could spread his wings and get clear of both the ache in his chest and the expression on the face of someone who would never have any idea what alone truly meant.


Open prompt: you would hate to know how similar we are.

Pearl finds her wayward offspring in the consort bowers (the very first place she looks) and doesn't wait for the acknowledgement she knows won't be coming before she says, bluntly, "Whatever happens to him, we can't afford you falling apart right now."

 

The reaction is instant and explosive: Jade comes to her feet on a deep snarl, hand still clenched around the bracelet (the bracelet still dented and bloodied, the blood still dark and sticky), and there is a moment of such strung tension that Pearl raises her spines half to battle posture before she can question the urge, her tail giving a single whip-crack lash; but Jade has shed the last remnants of her fledgling's impulsive temper turns ago, and it is with a mature queen's cold fury that she says, "Not everyone needs a reminder the court comes before their own feelings," before storming past, the stiff angle of her wings a cutting counterpart to her words.

 

Alone in the bower, Pearl eyes the hearth left dark and empty, the folds of a consort's tunic crumpled by hands that have aimlessly run through it again and again, and snorts quietly to herself.


Open prompt: a letter than says 'open when...'

Chime squinted at the folded paper and said doubtfully, "We don't get into that much trouble, do we?"

 

"If you make me answer that, I'm going to tip you over the side," Jade said, fingers combing through Moon's hair in annoyed flicks that seemed to be more about seeking calm than giving it.

 

It was a hint easily taken, and Chime resumed turning the letter over; not that it was really a great mystery how Stone had felt about everyone insisting he at least provide some means of finding him during his next journey, but open the next time you idiots try to end all our bloodlines still seemed a little excessive.