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[personal profile] dragonlady7

roche is so cranky

via https://ift.tt/3yHsMd2

I started to post this three days ago and then didn’t? for some reason? so then i tried to do it this morning and it took me forever and i think my brain’s not working properly.

anyway. i couldn’t think of any warnings to put on this chapter because it’s all in-between things, and as i was writing it i was like “oh i’m gonna cut this down to a summary” and then I didn’t, so like, apologies for the pacing, this could be snappier probably but i just don’t have it in me. sometimes writing a shorter thing takes much longer than a long one and it’s a skill i haven’t currently the time to master.

so this is Chapter 7, which is here on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/works/32023453/chapters/83636047, and contains some remarkably oblivious grumpy pining on Roche’s behalf, and dwarves being dwarves. Oh and an intro to my headcanons about aen seidhe musical traditions.

After a little while, the elves stopped singing, and fell into conversation. They’d switched from elder speech into common, Roche could catch from the snippets that drifted back, because the dwarves were participating, and the two more social of the humans.

“When,” Iorveth said, turning his head to look back at the column, “have you ever,” and he was speaking to one of the dwarves. He broke off in laughter, and faced away again.

“Don’t be so mean,” Breniriel said, “Ruarigh does his best.”

“The only thing Ruarigh ever does his best at,” Iorveth turned back to say, “is fucking and buggery.”

“Don’t forget eating,” the dwarf, possibly Ruarigh himself, said. “I always devote my fullest efforts to eating.”

“Fair,” Iorveth conceded, and turned back. He was– Roche mentally rolled his eyes at himself for bothering to note that Iorveth was very comfortable in the saddle. The elf had been a cavalry officer for years, one didn’t get that job by being shitty at horseback riding. But he was impressively fluid, dropping the reins to gesture as if it were nothing, rising in the stirrups to check the road ahead, turning his whole upper body to look back with an effortless shift of balance that didn’t interrupt his horse’s stride in the slightest.

Perhaps it was that the dwarf, beside him, looked so uncomfortable on his mount… No, Roche judged, Iorveth was just a beautiful rider.

It was fucking unfair that he couldn’t stop noticing these things, now that Iorveth had unfortunately moved to take up even more space in his mind. And his ass; he still didn’t hurt, after these hours in the saddle now, but somehow he was ever more aware of last night’s adventures, and a traitorous part of his body wanted to elide all the conversation that had happened afterward and resume those activities instead, terrible idea though it was. (Your picture was not posted)

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dragonlady7: self-portrait but it's mostly the DSLR in my hands in the mirror (Default)
dragonlady7

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