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My Writing this year up to now...

Title: Training Grounds, The Dress, In The Morning.
Author: fissijo
Fandom: Tamora Pierce's Tortall Universe.
Pairing: Keladry of Mindelan/Sergeant Domitan of Masbolle
Rating: G
Word counts: 164, 133 and 133 words.
A/N: Written earlier this year for the Smackdown Challenge on Goldenlake
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Tamora Pierce, just playing in her sandbox.



Kel winced, watching the page get another hit from the sandbags after barely scraping the target shield on the quintain. She had promised herself over and over that she would stay far away from the training grounds but couldn’t help but be drawn there. She wasn’t able to hear the training masters’ response from her vantage point but could guess, from painful memory, what it likely entailed.

“I knew I would find you here.” Dom remarked quietly, amusement obvious in his tone. “Barely an hour back from your travels and already at the yards. Come Lady Knight, she will do fine on her own and we’ve a lot of time to make up for.”
‘He has a point’ Kel thought as she allowed herself to be led away from the fence and back up the long hated hill to the palace. After all, their daughter would know where to find her if she wanted any help, and it had been a dreadfully long trip…

****


The first time she tried on the dress she didn’t want to look at her reflection, certain it would be too much, that she would look as ridiculous as she felt. It took Lalasa insisting and virtually hauling her to the looking glass for her to see she didn’t.

The second time she pulled the well fitted layers of silk on she blushed deeply as her Mama openly wept, hugging her tightly and telling her how proud she was of her.

The third time she wore the dress, the warmth and love showing in her beloved’s eyes as they made their vows to each other in front of all those dear to them she felt like a fairytale princess, glad that Lalasa had ignored her insistence that it ‘be more practical than pretty’.

****


In the morning they would put it down to the skin of wine that had been emptied far too quickly for common sense to prevail, to the relief of being alive and home and most importantly together.

For the night though there would be no thoughts of tomorrow, of the fights and work to come. Just two people lost in the moment, hesitant hands mapping out smooth skin and muscles, soothing scars new and old – stories for which there would be time enough to find out some when else. A night for passion, for celebrating life.

In the morning they would go back to being the Lady Knight and the Sergeant, to their often entwined but ultimately separate lives the night nothing more than a hazy memory held close to both their hearts.

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Fic by fissijo

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