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last_herald_mageI've been going through my WIPs trying to tie a few things up, and I posted a pwp on AO3 just now - Anointed (Van/Randale - it's a follow-up on my Van/Randi/Shavri fic Favours).
I also wanted to share this tiny SFW abandoned snippet here, in which Van & Stef enlist Lord Withen's aid in a personal matter...
Van's hand tapped a rhythm on the door before opening it, and his father stared at him sidelong with that expression that reminded Vanyel he had no time for musical fancy, and his tongue was held only by recently acquired patience. "Evening," Stefen called. "Oh, and Lord Withen, too!" He set his book aside and rose to his feet - bare, and only moments ago they had been over the arm of his favourite chair. Propriety had little influence on his habits, but he offered his arms to Withen respectfully.
The old man took them warmly in his hands. "Stefen. Should've expected to find you here."
"Thankfully," Stef noted, and stretched fit to creak. "Randale needs me more evenings than not, these days."
Withen nodded grimly. Vanyel sidestepped awkwardly, wanting to touch his lifebonded and knowing it to be exactly the wrong moment. "I was just telling him about your friend Maybet," he explained, and Stef grimaced.
"Gods." On cue, Stef turned on his heel and swept over to the fireplace. "Van said you know her father?" Stef tossed another log into the grate, and Withen pulled a chair close to the flames. "She was pledged to marry in the springtime -"
Withen nodded. "We were invited."
"And now she won't, and Lady Berrymead says she's a disgrace, and her father says she must marry young lord Dunstan or be sent to the convent..." He raised an eyebrow significantly.
"I'd heard something like that," Withen conceded, clearly wondering where this was going.
"Stef knows her a little," Van interjected.
"She says she won't have the hand of young Dunstan, or any young man. She'll have none but her lover, Elarita Maldon," and he sighed significantly.
"That, I hadn't heard." Withen coughed into his hand. He looked sidelong at Vanyel, and as Stefen hooked Van's arm, he looked away into the flames.
"Father," said Vanyel into the awkward pause that followed. "It occurred to me that Lord Berrymead could do with a few words from a friend who understood what he was going through."
"That might be so. And a drink or two, could be," Withen mused.
"I don't mean to burden you -"
"Gobshite," Withen sniffed. "You want someone to tell him that it ain't a damn bit of use making his little girl miserable, cause at the end of it she'll still be what she is?" He grinned. "I could tell him a few things I learned. Don't promise to get them through his hard head, mind."
I also wanted to share this tiny SFW abandoned snippet here, in which Van & Stef enlist Lord Withen's aid in a personal matter...
Van's hand tapped a rhythm on the door before opening it, and his father stared at him sidelong with that expression that reminded Vanyel he had no time for musical fancy, and his tongue was held only by recently acquired patience. "Evening," Stefen called. "Oh, and Lord Withen, too!" He set his book aside and rose to his feet - bare, and only moments ago they had been over the arm of his favourite chair. Propriety had little influence on his habits, but he offered his arms to Withen respectfully.
The old man took them warmly in his hands. "Stefen. Should've expected to find you here."
"Thankfully," Stef noted, and stretched fit to creak. "Randale needs me more evenings than not, these days."
Withen nodded grimly. Vanyel sidestepped awkwardly, wanting to touch his lifebonded and knowing it to be exactly the wrong moment. "I was just telling him about your friend Maybet," he explained, and Stef grimaced.
"Gods." On cue, Stef turned on his heel and swept over to the fireplace. "Van said you know her father?" Stef tossed another log into the grate, and Withen pulled a chair close to the flames. "She was pledged to marry in the springtime -"
Withen nodded. "We were invited."
"And now she won't, and Lady Berrymead says she's a disgrace, and her father says she must marry young lord Dunstan or be sent to the convent..." He raised an eyebrow significantly.
"I'd heard something like that," Withen conceded, clearly wondering where this was going.
"Stef knows her a little," Van interjected.
"She says she won't have the hand of young Dunstan, or any young man. She'll have none but her lover, Elarita Maldon," and he sighed significantly.
"That, I hadn't heard." Withen coughed into his hand. He looked sidelong at Vanyel, and as Stefen hooked Van's arm, he looked away into the flames.
"Father," said Vanyel into the awkward pause that followed. "It occurred to me that Lord Berrymead could do with a few words from a friend who understood what he was going through."
"That might be so. And a drink or two, could be," Withen mused.
"I don't mean to burden you -"
"Gobshite," Withen sniffed. "You want someone to tell him that it ain't a damn bit of use making his little girl miserable, cause at the end of it she'll still be what she is?" He grinned. "I could tell him a few things I learned. Don't promise to get them through his hard head, mind."
