Rebecca Hb. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beckyh2112) wrote2006-08-22 10:57 pm
beckyh2112) wrote2006-08-22 10:57 pm
Entry tags:
31_days - Maliar and Celebiar
Title: Ways Apart
Day/Theme: Aug. 22, 'Sword tells more truth than books; its parting wisdom from vanity.'
Series: Dark Age of Camelot
Character: Maliar, Celebiar
Rating: G
Summary: Two elven siblings bicker about their future paths.
---
Maliar glanced up from her book to watch her older brother fight his shadow back and forth across the clearing. His footwork was smooth, but his hands were a trifle slow for the exercise. His trainers would disapprove, even though his left hand was far from his primary hand. But an elf, especially a swordsman, should train himself to ambidexterity.
The maiden sighed as Celebiar finished this round of the exercise and stepped through a slow cool-down. He was only a few years older than her, but he'd gained most of the bodyweight of an adult elf, no longer looking like the half-starved waif he had ever since he hit puberty. Maliar hoped she would finish maturing soon herself, so she could travel to the great city of the Unseelie Court and train as an enchantress.
Celebiar stretched tiredly, sweat glimmering between his shoulder-blades. "Father says he'll start me training in chain mail soon."
She shrugged and turned back to her book on the mystical properties of stones and metals. At the moment, she was wading through yet another treastise on the usefulness and properties of gold. "So you'll waste more of your time on /that/. Hmph."
Celebiar crossed over to her in two strides, and the point of his sword tapped against her pulse-point. "Why, little sister, don't you approve of the Way of Arms?"
Maliar tilted her head up, baring her throat insolently. "You could be so much more. All of our family could be so much more than we are."
"Magic takes even more years to master than my blades do or Mithiar's bows. You're the one wasting yourself; you'll never get the years you bury in their books and scrolls back." The sword-tip ran up her neck to rest below her jaw. "You'll have to split up your time and take even longer with your studies if you want to learn to defend yourself properly with anything other than a staff. And what of your sewing, Maliar?"
She smirked. "I've got all the time in the world. I'm going to live forever."
He rolled his eyes and struck her wrist with the flat of his blade. "You're still such a silly little girl. Grow up."
She touched the red mark on her arm gingerly. "Don't believe me then. I've found the path to power, and I'm not stepping away from it for anything."
"You'll find someone you love, and you'll give up for them," He said with the assurance of an older and wiser sibling. "Stick with your books then if it makes you happy. But I'll win more fame and fortune with my sword than you ever will with magic."
"Hmph."
Day/Theme: Aug. 22, 'Sword tells more truth than books; its parting wisdom from vanity.'
Series: Dark Age of Camelot
Character: Maliar, Celebiar
Rating: G
Summary: Two elven siblings bicker about their future paths.
---
Maliar glanced up from her book to watch her older brother fight his shadow back and forth across the clearing. His footwork was smooth, but his hands were a trifle slow for the exercise. His trainers would disapprove, even though his left hand was far from his primary hand. But an elf, especially a swordsman, should train himself to ambidexterity.
The maiden sighed as Celebiar finished this round of the exercise and stepped through a slow cool-down. He was only a few years older than her, but he'd gained most of the bodyweight of an adult elf, no longer looking like the half-starved waif he had ever since he hit puberty. Maliar hoped she would finish maturing soon herself, so she could travel to the great city of the Unseelie Court and train as an enchantress.
Celebiar stretched tiredly, sweat glimmering between his shoulder-blades. "Father says he'll start me training in chain mail soon."
She shrugged and turned back to her book on the mystical properties of stones and metals. At the moment, she was wading through yet another treastise on the usefulness and properties of gold. "So you'll waste more of your time on /that/. Hmph."
Celebiar crossed over to her in two strides, and the point of his sword tapped against her pulse-point. "Why, little sister, don't you approve of the Way of Arms?"
Maliar tilted her head up, baring her throat insolently. "You could be so much more. All of our family could be so much more than we are."
"Magic takes even more years to master than my blades do or Mithiar's bows. You're the one wasting yourself; you'll never get the years you bury in their books and scrolls back." The sword-tip ran up her neck to rest below her jaw. "You'll have to split up your time and take even longer with your studies if you want to learn to defend yourself properly with anything other than a staff. And what of your sewing, Maliar?"
She smirked. "I've got all the time in the world. I'm going to live forever."
He rolled his eyes and struck her wrist with the flat of his blade. "You're still such a silly little girl. Grow up."
She touched the red mark on her arm gingerly. "Don't believe me then. I've found the path to power, and I'm not stepping away from it for anything."
"You'll find someone you love, and you'll give up for them," He said with the assurance of an older and wiser sibling. "Stick with your books then if it makes you happy. But I'll win more fame and fortune with my sword than you ever will with magic."
"Hmph."