[Ficlet -- Chalion] Illumination
February 1st, 2009 11:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
There has been some discussion lately about how we could all do with a little more Chalion fanfic in the world. So here's a little ficlet -- no major spoilers, except for the ship itself, which you can see coming in the book from about chapter 3 anyway, hee.
Illumination
Cazaril finished a kiss and pulled away, just a little. Betriz looked up at him, flushed and beaming and slightly out of breath.
She had been Betriz dy Cazaril for six hours or so, he calculated. But after the wedding came feasting, and speeches, and eventually dancing. So the sum total of their time alone as husband and wife so far was all of maybe fifteen minutes.
Still, they had made a striking amount of progress in that quarter of an hour.
They were sitting very close together on the edge of the bed—their bed. Richly embroidered tunic and trousers and gown lay draped over a chest in the corner. Now Betriz was wearing nothing but a simple linen shift, dyed some lovely pale color that was impossible to identify by candlelight, and worked along the modest neckline with violets and snowdrops and other symbols of the Daughter. This shift was much finer than the plain white ones she had worn for swimming lessons a year ago, but it had much the same effect on him.
And that was about the only thing that could have stopped him kissing her. He wanted to look his fill while he still had the chance.
When Cazaril returned his hungry gaze to Betriz’s face, he saw that her smile had widened. At least she didn’t mind him looking. Now, in fact, she was doing some looking of her own. There probably wasn’t much that his own linen shirt and trews left to the imagination.
Not much—but something, withal.
And so, when her deft hands found the laces of his shirt and began to untie them, he felt his smile turn slightly wry against her lips. “Let’s blow out the candles,” he murmured.
“No,” said Betriz placidly, “let’s not.”
He swallowed. That wasn’t in the scene he had painted in his head for this night.
She was eyeing him rather shrewdly, but then her dimple flashed. “I can’t believe you’re tired of looking at me already!”
“No—of course not—”
Her hand settled on his thigh. He drew a sharp breath.
“Well, I’m not, either. Tired of looking at you, that is.” She leaned in and found his lips with hers, and her fingers continued their nimble dance down his chest until his shirt hung open.
Her warm hands slipped under the smooth cloth to rest on his shoulders.
He stiffened. He couldn’t help himself.
Betriz went very still, but she didn’t take her hands away. “Caz. I love you—all of you.” She leaned up and brushed her lips along one eyebrow. “There’s no shame in anything you’ve done.” Her voice grew stronger. “You know that better than I do.”
Cazaril opened his mouth to speak, but his mind failed to supply him with any useful words.
“Besides—” the dimple returned—“you can’t possibly imagine I won’t want to be doing this again in the morning!”
The impish glint in her eye provoked an answering grin from him before he knew it. How was it that his imagination had never carried him past this one night?
He kissed her again, softly.
And then, quite deliberately, he shrugged his shoulders, letting the shirt slide down his back to pool on the bed behind him.
. * fin * .
[ To Chalion/Vorkosigan story index ]
.
- Illumination
(541 words | PG-13 for intimate situations)
The sum total of their time alone as husband and wife so far was all of maybe fifteen minutes. Still, they had made a striking amount of progress in that quarter of an hour.
Cazaril finished a kiss and pulled away, just a little. Betriz looked up at him, flushed and beaming and slightly out of breath.
She had been Betriz dy Cazaril for six hours or so, he calculated. But after the wedding came feasting, and speeches, and eventually dancing. So the sum total of their time alone as husband and wife so far was all of maybe fifteen minutes.
Still, they had made a striking amount of progress in that quarter of an hour.
They were sitting very close together on the edge of the bed—their bed. Richly embroidered tunic and trousers and gown lay draped over a chest in the corner. Now Betriz was wearing nothing but a simple linen shift, dyed some lovely pale color that was impossible to identify by candlelight, and worked along the modest neckline with violets and snowdrops and other symbols of the Daughter. This shift was much finer than the plain white ones she had worn for swimming lessons a year ago, but it had much the same effect on him.
And that was about the only thing that could have stopped him kissing her. He wanted to look his fill while he still had the chance.
When Cazaril returned his hungry gaze to Betriz’s face, he saw that her smile had widened. At least she didn’t mind him looking. Now, in fact, she was doing some looking of her own. There probably wasn’t much that his own linen shirt and trews left to the imagination.
Not much—but something, withal.
And so, when her deft hands found the laces of his shirt and began to untie them, he felt his smile turn slightly wry against her lips. “Let’s blow out the candles,” he murmured.
“No,” said Betriz placidly, “let’s not.”
He swallowed. That wasn’t in the scene he had painted in his head for this night.
She was eyeing him rather shrewdly, but then her dimple flashed. “I can’t believe you’re tired of looking at me already!”
“No—of course not—”
Her hand settled on his thigh. He drew a sharp breath.
“Well, I’m not, either. Tired of looking at you, that is.” She leaned in and found his lips with hers, and her fingers continued their nimble dance down his chest until his shirt hung open.
Her warm hands slipped under the smooth cloth to rest on his shoulders.
He stiffened. He couldn’t help himself.
Betriz went very still, but she didn’t take her hands away. “Caz. I love you—all of you.” She leaned up and brushed her lips along one eyebrow. “There’s no shame in anything you’ve done.” Her voice grew stronger. “You know that better than I do.”
Cazaril opened his mouth to speak, but his mind failed to supply him with any useful words.
“Besides—” the dimple returned—“you can’t possibly imagine I won’t want to be doing this again in the morning!”
The impish glint in her eye provoked an answering grin from him before he knew it. How was it that his imagination had never carried him past this one night?
He kissed her again, softly.
And then, quite deliberately, he shrugged his shoulders, letting the shirt slide down his back to pool on the bed behind him.
[ To Chalion/Vorkosigan story index ]
.
no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 07:57 am (UTC)Anyway, I love this. It stands to reason that Caz would get a bit silly at this point, and Betriz would know how to sooth him. I also find it totally adorable that he hasn't thought beyond that first night.
So yeah, this is lovely, and I'm so glad you're writing Chalion. Long may it continue.
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:10 pm (UTC)Hee! No, I didn't start until after supper...but our conversation definitely inspired this attempt. :)
Thanks for the kind words. I was afraid I didn't know Betriz well enough to be able to write her, but she asserted herself very cooperatively.
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Date: 2009-02-02 10:35 am (UTC)I just finished Chalion yesterday, so you posted this with perfect timing for me!
It was perfectly Caz and Betriz. I loved how you linked back to their swimming lessons with his thought of how she looked in the shift and also his uncertainty about his own body. And Betriz is just adorable. I loved Chalion for how both her and Iselle were strong females whilst still being in synch with their more male-focused world (does that make sense??) Anyway, you strike that balance perfectly here.
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:12 pm (UTC)I loved Chalion for how both her and Iselle were strong females whilst still being in synch with their more male-focused world (does that make sense??)
That makes total sense, and I completely agree with you. It's one of the things I like about the series. (Bujold has set up a similar society in the futuristic world of her SF series, too.)
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Date: 2009-02-02 12:01 pm (UTC)And this seems a very likely scenario, too. Cazaril isn't really as bright as everyone seems to think - good thing he has Betriz to show him the light. (no pun intended on the title of your piece ;))
I just finished Paladin of Souls (well almost - there are 6 pages left, but I really had to leave for work and couldn't read them). And I loved it! Even more than Curse of Chalion, actually... Ista is such a lovely grumpy reluctant centre-piece in the story.
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:16 pm (UTC)I really liked Paladin of Souls too, especially Ista, who is just fantastic. But I can't say which of the two books I liked best. Maybe I should read them again and check. ;)
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Date: 2009-02-02 01:06 pm (UTC)I very much enjoyed the echoes of the swimming scene and how shifts are apparently the fashion item of choice for modesty (only not necessarily;)), and Cazaril's understandable embarrassment about revealing the scars to Betriz once more. The way she reassures him - that it's pointless being in the dark, anyway, as she's looking forward to a repeat in the morning - is very her. Being mischievous, clever and exactly what a man on his wedding night must want to hear!
I do like the way he's working out the mathematics of how much time they've spent together and how much they've achieved. LOL. That's very him!
I think you've captured them perfectly and hope you'll do so again. The world definitely needs a little more Chalion from you.:D
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:20 pm (UTC)*snort* I have no self-discipline, and Order needs some serious thought. Anyway, it's been a while since I'd posted fic, so I thought a little ficlet to get the wheels moving might be a good idea. Or that's my excuse. ;)
shifts are apparently the fashion item of choice for modesty
Hee! I was assuming that a shift was just standard female underwear, although I don't know much about medieval/Renaissance clothing. (So a special embroidered one would be the equivalent of modern lacy bridal lingerie?)
Thanks for the kind words. It was fun writing these two, and Chalion in general, so who knows...
ETA: Now that I can actually edit these things, I'm getting awfully careless! :(
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Date: 2009-02-02 01:31 pm (UTC)Loved this: How was it that his imagination had never carried him past this one night?
LOL, poor Caz...I can just see him fretting about the scar thing and thinking if he can just put the light out before they get naked, he'll be safe. LOL
Oh, and can I just say, that Chalion clothes make the story even more suggestive? Unlacing shirts? Yum. ;)
On another note, you might consider linking this at
Lovely job, m'dear. I do hope you'll do some more...
*bemoans lack of Chalion icons*
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:08 pm (UTC)I did find a couple on the second site someone had done, but they were quotes from the books. The Paladin one was actually a great one about praying for help to the Bastard, but I thought how much chaos could I cause using that if you hadn't read the book? ;)
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Date: 2009-02-02 02:31 pm (UTC)I'm glad you thought the "OMG! moment" was okay, because I know the situation is more complicated than this -- they both know that Betriz has seen his scars before, and she'd be able to feel them in the dark, anyway. But I didn't want to turn the dialogue into some giant expositional exercise, so I kept it kind of minimal.
Unlacing shirts? Yum. ;)
Hee hee. I wondered about the logistics of the linen undershirt for a while, and finally decided that they probably wouldn't waste buttons -- which would have had to have been hand-carved -- on underwear. ;)
On another note, you might consider linking this at bujold_fic and lmbujold.
Thanks for the suggestion. I had wondered about the first one (didn't know about the second one!). Maybe I will... although I have been trying not to look too hard at any Bujold communities, because I'm only two thirds of the way through the Vorkosigan series and don't want to end up accidentally spoiling myself by chancing upon the wrong fic summary, heh. (I've already seen a reference to a dismaying character death, but at least it wasn't clear if it was canon or fic-specific.)
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Date: 2009-02-03 12:15 am (UTC)Perhaps I'll have to check the books out--I see you've give someone a quick rec on where to start.
I love your phrasing throughout: her fingers continued their nimble dance down his chest until his shirt hung open--so much nicer than focusing on the mechanics of lacings or buttons or whatever. I also liked the 'pooling' of the shirt.
Glad I got to read.
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Date: 2009-02-03 05:24 am (UTC)I see you've give someone a quick rec on where to start.
Although I may have been reccing a different series by the same author, heh. This story is a missing moment from (well, after) the book The Curse of Chalion, by Lois McMaster Bujold. Cazaril is the point-of-view character, and he's a new favorite of mine.
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Date: 2009-02-04 09:33 pm (UTC)This is beautifully compact and packs a wonderful punch.
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Date: 2009-02-12 05:19 am (UTC)A very nice slice of Chalion here. I think everybody needs to be wearing linen shifts in fanfic. It's so sexy!
Looking forward to more!
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Date: 2009-02-13 03:34 am (UTC)Thanks for the kind words, and I think you're right about the shifts. ;) There's something about clothes that cover-while-revealing, isn't there!