Drabble meme

[shimotsuki]

This may be a really bad idea, given my progress so far on my list, but I haven't tried drabbling in a while, and it's so much fun. Plus, this week is Spring Break, dangit. So.

Meme borrowed from mrstater and chococoffeekiss, in honor of International Women's Day:
Name a woman in one of my fandoms and I will attempt a drabble about her.

I guess "my fandoms" would be:

• Harry Potter
  
• Chalion
  
• Vorkosigan
  
• The Thief
  
• Earthsea
  
• Trixie Belden?? (lol)

Or if there's something else you think you can make me write, suggestions are welcome!

.

Comments

[chococoffeekiss.livejournal.com]

Luna Lovegood? :)

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

Ooh, I don't think I've ever written Luna!

---

They slammed the door and left her alone in the dark.

“I’m somewhere,” she said. “That’s better than nowhere.”

“Who’s that?” came a thread of a voice.

Not alone, then. She pondered. “Should I tell you?”

“You have nothing to fear from me,” said the voice. “I can hardly move.” It paused. “I’m Ollivander.”

“Mr. Ollivander, the wandmaker?” She began to feel her way toward him. “I’m Luna Lovegood.”

“Unicorn hair,” he said weakly. “Hawthorn.”

“That’s right.” Luna sat down beside the voice. “Nine inches. Rather springy.”

[gilpin25.livejournal.com]

This is a writing match that has obviously been waiting to happen! I really like “I’m somewhere,” she said. “That’s better than nowhere” and Rather springy."

[chococoffeekiss.livejournal.com]

Wonderful!!! I love how 'somewhere' is better than 'nowhere.' That is Luna through and through! And Mr Ollivander's reaction is just perfect. :)

[mrstater.livejournal.com]

LOL Of course Luna takes this all in stride! And she would have a springy wand. I'll bet she was a comforting (if not rather confusing) presence for Ollivander.

[gilpin25.livejournal.com]

How nice that there are so many awesome female characters I'm debating over.:D

The Queen of Attolia, please.

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

There are lots of nice choices, aren't there!

This ran to 150 words -- couldn't squeeze it down to 100, so I went for exactly a drabble and a half instead. ;)

---

She sat statue-still on her throne, waiting.

It was the large throne she had chosen, of course. The smaller one sat empty at her side.

Would that it might remain so.

She knew that she was perfect. Every jewel in her shining hair; every fold of fine silk. And not a single expression on her face that she did not place there deliberately.

This would be the performance of her life. Even more important than her ill-fated wedding night, for now the fate of the whole peninsula hung in the balance.

She nodded to Relius, and he nodded to the guards. They pulled the door open.

“Your Majesty,” said the smug, gaudy man who stepped through. “My name is Nahuseresh. I am here to offer you aid, in the name of my Emperor.”

She allowed a smile to warm her face. “Ambassador, you are most welcome here.”

[gilpin25.livejournal.com]

:D That could fit seamlessly into the books. Especially Even more important than her ill-fated wedding night, for now the fate of the whole peninsula hung in the balance.

[mrstater.livejournal.com]

Why don't you write the one about Winona Kirk? ;)

Or how about Iselle's grandmother? (I am completely blanking on her name.)

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

LOL! I thought about Winona, really I did, but I'm too fuzzy on the details of just how Kirk rushed off to join up to make it fit canon. (This is why I only write book fic!) So here's the dowager provincara of Baocia, whose given name I don't think we ever learned.

---

The Provincara sighed, watching her grandchildren squabble.

Iselle could talk circles around her brother. She was older, of course, but even at Teidez’s age—or younger—Iselle had already come into a certain quickness of wit and sharpness of eye that was sadly lacking in the boy.

The boy. The heir to the royacy, rather, if that fool Orico couldn’t manage to get his wife with child.

The Provincara sighed again as Iselle tossed her head and stalked off, leaving Teidez in a red-faced sulk.

Well, even her son had turned out a passable provincar. Maybe Teidez just needed a good tutor.

[mrstater.livejournal.com]

Well, I feel slightly better about forgetting her name if she doesn't have one, LOL! But I couldn't remember her title, either. My Chalionese is getting dreadfully rusty!

Nice little prelude to Chalion! If only the Provincara knew how things were going to turn out for The Boy. Poor Teidez!

[bookish-brownie.livejournal.com]

Very nice. This scene fits really well with canon, and I love the line about "a good tutor" ;).

[carnivalgirl.livejournal.com]

Lily Evans/Potter. Because I've seen different interpretations of her from fiesty to adorable, and I'd love to see your take. :)

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

Oh, I do like Lily! I see her as a little more traditionally girly than Tonks (or Ginny), but pretty feisty. (If you're looking for stuff to read, I do actually have a handful of Lily fics, indexed here (http://shimotsuki.livejournal.com/3273.html#cutid2) -- the first three and "Seeds" are Lily POV. :P )

---

Lily woke at dawn, athrill with anticipation. Sev had told her so much about Hogwarts, and she couldn’t wait to explore it for herself.

She found the Great Hall on her own. A few other early risers had already started on breakfast. From the doorway, she scanned faces until she saw the one she knew best.

She went over to him. “Morning, Sev! Do we always eat at our own tables?”

“Talking to Mudbloods, Snape?” drawled an older boy with white-blond hair. The other Slytherins laughed.

Sev looked away.

It seemed he hadn’t told her everything about Hogwarts.

[avanti-90.livejournal.com]

Ouch. That was very nicely done.

[mrstater.livejournal.com]

What a hard lesson to learn on the first day of school. :( She's such a cutie, equal parts bold to try and buck tradition a little (clearly not being into the eating with only your house thing) and a little wary, wanting to be with the person she knows.

And I know this is supposed to be about Lily, but I really feel for Snape here. He's just a little boy, and a little boy who's lived a very difficult life, to boot. It's not really surprising he fell in with the wrong crowd, is it? Especially not thanks to that kind of segregation built right into the Hogwarts structure.

[zia-montrose.livejournal.com]

You've managed to make whipping out these perfectly canonical and in-character moments look easier than it is. I enjoyed both HP ones! : )

[marbleglove.livejournal.com]

I can't remember her name off hand, but in "The King of Attolia," the girl Eugenides dances with, the younger sister of the woman who is trying to become his mistress.

Or the older sister, who is supposed to become Eugenides mistress.

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

Ooh, a fun choice. Here are both sisters!

---

“You little sneak,” Themis hissed. “Stop flirting with the king—he’s mine.”

“Flirting?” Heiro looked up from her embroidery. “I dance with him. That’s all.”

“Of course you’re flirting.” Themis pulled the half-finished altar-cloth out of Heiro’s hands and flung it on the floor, tangling the fine silken floss. “Why else would anyone dance with that goatfoot? But I’m to be his mistress. Father says so.”

Heiro picked up the altar-cloth, smoothing it on her knee.

Themis saw a goatfoot. Father saw an opportunity.

But Heiro saw a lonely boy—and so, she danced.

[wildeagain.livejournal.com]

Hermione Granger. TY!

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

My first time writing nearly-grown-up Hermione!

---

Hermione kept busy. She hunted through her textbooks for the tiniest shred of information. She spent one whole week Transfiguring a beaded bag to hold as much as a small lorry.

At night, though, she lay awake and worried. About Harry, who was already facing so much. About Ron, and the things she wanted to tell him someday.

But at least the boys knew how to defend themselves. What if the Death Eaters came after her parents? For just a moment, Hermione wanted to be ten again, back before her parents knew anything that would put them at risk—

Oh.

[bookish-brownie.livejournal.com]

Betriz! I'm surprised that one hadn't been taken yet.

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

Yay! And here's a double drabble at 200 words -- this one just kept going and wouldn't let me stop, heh.

---

Betriz hadn’t realized how much Cazaril had changed this spring. Not until tonight.

Now she watched him across the dinner table, returned to stiffness by the pain from his fall. Responding to the March dy Palliar’s riveting stories of Cazaril’s own bravery and daring at Gotorget with nothing more than a dry word or a shake of the head, in stark contrast to the wise and arresting lessons he gave the girls on history and politics.

And his eyes scanned the shadows ceaselessly.

Cazaril was pleased to see his old friend—Betriz was certain of that—but something about the march’s visit had turned him back into the ailing, frightened man who had first limped home from Ibra and into the Provincara’s service.

Betriz had known, as though it were a list of facts from one of his lessons, that Cazaril had been captured, enslaved, beaten; had lost all his wordly goods. But she hadn’t really understood, until tonight, how fundamentally his captivity had marked him. Just as she hadn’t appreciated how far he had come in trusting the members of this little household.

She made a silent vow to the Daughter that she would never, ever betray that trust.

[katyhasclogs.livejournal.com]

Iselle!

(I know I sound like a broken record, but I do love her and she's so rarely written.)

[shimotsuki.livejournal.com]

I was planning to write an older, wiser Iselle, but this plotbunny bit first! (I'll dedicate another Iselle fic to you sometime. ;) ) And I do love her bright spontaneity, even before it becomes tempered with wisdom...

(ETA: There's a bit of Iselle in the Provincara drabble, above.)

---

“And dinners at court.” Iselle was excited enough to have bounced in her saddle if that weren’t such bad form. “With the lords and ladies in their fine silks.”

Betriz listened, eyes wide. “And minstrels!”

“And divines, and soldiers. All kinds of people. Isn’t that right, Lord Caz?”

Her secretary-tutor rode stiffly beside her. “There are indeed all kinds of people at court, Royesse. But not all may be to your liking.”

Iselle wrinkled her nose. Caz’s dark words were no better than her mother’s tears. Older people just didn’t understand how important this was.