Story bit for Stardance
Jun. 5th, 2008 06:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
maderrMy internet is being a supreme ho-beast. Never did get this up last night. I have no idea what my connection will be like now.
So. Unbeta'ed, only the first five pages.
She gave me a few requests from which to choose. It was the Epee and Sharp which my brain chose.
Happy Birthday,![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
stardance I <3 you very very much.
The thrill of victory flooded his veins, hot and fierce, curling in his belly like a good brandy or a fine toss in the sheets.
Epee smirked at Sharp, meeting the furious gaze unflinching. "That is victory to me, today, my dearest Lord. You put on a fine show, as always, and provide some modicum of challenge."
Oh, he did like far too much to see Sharp's eyes flash with anger. The very color of the chocolate he drank every morning for breakfast. Dark eyes and pale hair, a beautiful contrast. Too bad there was such a temper behind it.
Then again, that temper only ever seemed to flare when Epee entered his line of vision. It hadn't always been thus, but it had been such for so long, Epee had all but forgotten a time when Sharp did not wish to run him through.
Seven years ago, that had been. Ever since Mace had accused him of cheating, and Sharp had believed it – even when his name had been cleared, Sharp had never really trusted him again.
Which was exactly what Mace had wanted, in the end, the scum.
He lifted his sword in a salute, dismissing the stale thoughts. A hundred times he'd gone over them, but in not more than a month the unpleasant memories would vanish forever.
Usually, he liked to linger and gloat just enough to make Sharp snarl. Today, however, he was too excited to do anything but sheath his sword and depart.
Abandoning the dueling square, Epee made his way through the crowded streets of the city, headed for the little warehouse at the edge of the city he had rented. Without his father's knowing, because if his father knew he was engaging in anything so vulgar as trade, he would disown Epee on the spot.
Normally he would not care, but…so close, he was so very close, and he could not, would not, jeopardize the victory of a lifetime by permitting his father to discover how he spent his free time.
Moving through the still relatively empty warehouse, he pushed open the rickety door in the back and sat down at his desk – not the best, certainly nothing like the thing of beauty in his room back home, but it belonged to him, not his father, and that made it precious.
Opening a bottle of ink and drawing a quill, he pulled out the small book tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat. It was small, only slightly larger than the palm of his hand, made of leather worn butter-soft by years of use.
Inside, nearly every page was neatly lined with numbers – one through one thousand. Beside nearly every number was a date.
Only 999 and 1000 were blank.
Dipping his quill, he carefully wrote out the current date beside the number 999.
One more. Epee could scarcely draw breath. Only one more duel and Sharp would be his.
Well, he hoped. But surely…
He shoved the book away to let the ink dry, and stood to prowl restlessly through the warehouse.
It was still largely empty, only having been acquired in the past month. One day, though…one day it would be filled to overflowing with all manner of merchandise. Spices and wines, antique blades and bolts of fabric…
The idea of it was almost as wonderful as the idea of finally being able to call Sharp his own.
One more. His heart seemed to beat the words over and over again in his chest, driving them up into his head until it seemed near to burst with it.
You are too picky, Sharp! That is the third woman you have made cry this week! I think even the men walk away with wet eyes.
Well, you may complain, but twenty years from now you will be bemoaning the lovers with whom you are saddled. I will await a perfect companion, and be the happier at the end for it.
Oh? Then do tell us, Lord Sharp, what is your idea of a perfect companion?
Someone who is not weak.
Ha! You would never tolerate anyone who might best you with that blade you wear like it is part of your flesh.
On the contrary, someone who can beat me would be quite intriguing.
Fie on that! I beat you yesterday.
A lucky break. I do not mean once or twice, or upon occasion. I mean someone who can really beat me. Yes, that sounds like someone I would keep.
What the devil does 'really beat' mean? Be clear, Sharp!
Not you, how is that for clear? Not good enough? Hmm…well, how about someone who can beat me one thousand times?
You are demanding, and picky, and ask the impossible. Steward, more wine!
They'd all been drunk at the time – outrageously drunk, and more than a few pieces of club furniture had met its end that night. He recalled that only because everything about that night was etched into his mind as deeply as his own name.
Not that he had been part of it; they probably had not even noticed he was there. He was always there, tucked into his corner to study the night away – where he could watch the table nearest the windows, the table of which Sharp and his friends, all of them two years Epee's senior, made regular use.
Where he could watch Sharp, with whom he'd been so infatuated after meeting him briefly shortly after his arrival at school.
Sharp who had never noticed him, had not even remembered their being introduced.
Not until the first time Epee beat him at swords, a mere two days after that damned conversation.
That had been victory number one, and nine years later he was one victory away from meeting Sharp's challenge. One more victory, one more blank to be filled in his book, and he would be perfect for Sharp.
Nine years was a lot of time to realize and admit he was stupid, that as drunk as he was Sharp probably did not even recall that long ago conversation. But somewhere along the way, infatuation had turned into obsession, and obsession had grown and matured and blossomed into love.
He froze as the main door creaked open, but relaxed when he recognized the figure in the doorway. "Well, well, the grand and glorious Master Swordsman's apprentice, come to visit his humble stepbrother."
"Epee, there are many words to describe you," Dagger retorted, "and humble is not one of them. I was coming to visit Hammer and heard you got into yet another duel with Sharp. One of these days, the two of you are going to kill each other."
Summoning a smile was easy; jests and laughs and levity were always easy to summon. He threw an arm around Dagger's shoulders and steered him back out of the warehouse. "Nonsense, Main Gauche. Lord Sharp is madly in love with me and simply does not know any other way to express it. One of these days, he will come to his senses and be even more embarrassing to look upon than you when you gaze with star-struck eyes upon his Highness."
"I do not," Dagger hissed. "Stop calling me that."
"What? Your name?" Epee asked blandly, and this time the grin was genuine.
Dagger all but stamped his foot. "You have everyone calling me that now! It's not my name!"
"Main Gauche!" The cries came from across the street, a flock of girls giggling and smiling and waving as they passed by. Others took notice, adding their own cries and greetings.
Epee snickered, and dragged his brother along. "Your cheeks are red, my dear Main Gauche. Aren't you used to your new fame?"
"Shut up," Dagger said. "Just shut up. I have blackmail against you now, so do what I say."
"Well, if you're going to be that way," Epee said with an exaggerated sniff – it was true, except that Dagger would never really consider such a thing. Without Dagger, he never would have been able to acquire the warehouse without his father finding out.
Not that he'd act too grateful; that would not be acting as people expected.
Dagger rolled his eyes and shrugged off the arm still draped across his shoulders. "Would you like to come eat lunch with Hammer and I?"
"That sounds splendid. Let me nip back to retrieve a few things I left in the warehouse."
"Meet us at the Blue Fish, then," Dagger replied, and with a wave vanished into an alleyway to avoid the crowded streets.
Epee returned quickly to the warehouse, striding to the back to retrieve his book. His fingers brushed feather-light across the fresh entry, heart speeding up again even as he tried to remind himself it would likely not go the way he had hoped and dreamed and imagined over the past nine years. How could it?
Yet he could no more give up that hope than he could breathing. He had worked too hard to give up so lightly. Until Sharp looked at him and refused his suit, he would persevere. "One more," he said softly, and damned if he would not make it the greatest duel, the greatest victory, in his long years of dueling.
Back outside, he quickly retraced part of the route he and Dagger had taken before. Having no need to avoid the crowds, he eschewed the side streets and alleys and kept the main streets. He whistled as he walked, enjoying the throng, the hustle and bustle of ordinary life, so different from the reserved, stately streets where his father's townhouse resided.
To think someday soon it would be his own wares and merchandise being sold in these shops and markets. Most – if not everyone – would call him stupid or foolish or eccentric, and likely far worse besides, but he could not help himself. Noble life was stifling.
He was not so naïve as to think the poor peasant life idyllic, but there was much to be said for carving his own path. Look at how well it had worked for Dagger to do what he wanted; Epee could only admire. If he tried, he did not doubt he could be quite successful a merchant.
By pure habit he slowed down as he passed by the dueling square, looking to see who might be occupying it now he and Sharp had finished – and nearly fell flat on his face as his step faltered.
No.
No, no, please dear god above no.
Not Mace. Not stupid, obnoxious, evil, ugly Mace.
Epee swallowed around the lump of dismay in his throat and kept walking, forcing himself to smile and whistle and act as though he did not care – did not notice, in fact.
Mace.
Sharp's oldest, dearest friend.
The stupid bastard who had accused Epee of cheating seven years ago. Who had poisoned Sharp against him, and so very nearly ruined everything.
Damn it. How had he not known Mace was back? He'd been overseas for six and a half years; why could he not stay gone just a month or two more? Why had he returned now? Epee wanted to scream in frustration and agony.
He paused near the turnoff to the small street where he would be meeting Dagger and Hammer, keeping to the crowds and shadows as he turned to look once more toward the dueling square.
Epee knew he was attractive. His hair was light brown with the faintest hints of red, just past his shoulders and healthy, with just a hint of wave. His eyes were hazel, nothing special, but he'd been complimented on their clarity before. Much of his time was spent in fencing, the rest of it in walking back and forth across the city as he secretly pursued his merchant prince dream. He was tall and lithe and fit. None of his one night lovers had ever complained about him.
For all that, he could not even begin to compete with bloody Mace.
Tall and broad and strong, with the sort of golden features about which sonnets were composed, and women sighed and giggled. In school, he'd never spent a night alone, and Epee doubted that had changed since they had finished school. Being abroad had given his skin a deep gold tone, and he wore clothes that were fine enough for royalty.
Sharp came just to his shoulder, and stood as close to Mace as only friends would, smiling in a way that he never had at Epee.
No, he could not even begin to compete with Mace. His only real moment of good fortune had been Mace's announcement that he was going abroad for several years.
Epee turned away, appetite vanished as he realized his plans might well and truly come to naught now. Mace had never liked him, for reasons Epee had never been able to deduce. Now that he was back, and after learning of all the duels he had fought with Sharp…if he did not know of them already…
It did not bear thinking upon.
Feeling utterly wretched, Epee stopped once more, pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. Bit by bit, he managed to dredge up his smiles, his jests, his carefree manner.
Then, and only then, did he finally enter the tavern and look for Dagger, who beckoned him eagerly and ordered a fresh round of drinks.
So. Unbeta'ed, only the first five pages.
She gave me a few requests from which to choose. It was the Epee and Sharp which my brain chose.
Happy Birthday,
stardance I <3 you very very much. 1000 Victories
The thrill of victory flooded his veins, hot and fierce, curling in his belly like a good brandy or a fine toss in the sheets.
Epee smirked at Sharp, meeting the furious gaze unflinching. "That is victory to me, today, my dearest Lord. You put on a fine show, as always, and provide some modicum of challenge."
Oh, he did like far too much to see Sharp's eyes flash with anger. The very color of the chocolate he drank every morning for breakfast. Dark eyes and pale hair, a beautiful contrast. Too bad there was such a temper behind it.
Then again, that temper only ever seemed to flare when Epee entered his line of vision. It hadn't always been thus, but it had been such for so long, Epee had all but forgotten a time when Sharp did not wish to run him through.
Seven years ago, that had been. Ever since Mace had accused him of cheating, and Sharp had believed it – even when his name had been cleared, Sharp had never really trusted him again.
Which was exactly what Mace had wanted, in the end, the scum.
He lifted his sword in a salute, dismissing the stale thoughts. A hundred times he'd gone over them, but in not more than a month the unpleasant memories would vanish forever.
Usually, he liked to linger and gloat just enough to make Sharp snarl. Today, however, he was too excited to do anything but sheath his sword and depart.
Abandoning the dueling square, Epee made his way through the crowded streets of the city, headed for the little warehouse at the edge of the city he had rented. Without his father's knowing, because if his father knew he was engaging in anything so vulgar as trade, he would disown Epee on the spot.
Normally he would not care, but…so close, he was so very close, and he could not, would not, jeopardize the victory of a lifetime by permitting his father to discover how he spent his free time.
Moving through the still relatively empty warehouse, he pushed open the rickety door in the back and sat down at his desk – not the best, certainly nothing like the thing of beauty in his room back home, but it belonged to him, not his father, and that made it precious.
Opening a bottle of ink and drawing a quill, he pulled out the small book tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat. It was small, only slightly larger than the palm of his hand, made of leather worn butter-soft by years of use.
Inside, nearly every page was neatly lined with numbers – one through one thousand. Beside nearly every number was a date.
Only 999 and 1000 were blank.
Dipping his quill, he carefully wrote out the current date beside the number 999.
One more. Epee could scarcely draw breath. Only one more duel and Sharp would be his.
Well, he hoped. But surely…
He shoved the book away to let the ink dry, and stood to prowl restlessly through the warehouse.
It was still largely empty, only having been acquired in the past month. One day, though…one day it would be filled to overflowing with all manner of merchandise. Spices and wines, antique blades and bolts of fabric…
The idea of it was almost as wonderful as the idea of finally being able to call Sharp his own.
One more. His heart seemed to beat the words over and over again in his chest, driving them up into his head until it seemed near to burst with it.
You are too picky, Sharp! That is the third woman you have made cry this week! I think even the men walk away with wet eyes.
Well, you may complain, but twenty years from now you will be bemoaning the lovers with whom you are saddled. I will await a perfect companion, and be the happier at the end for it.
Oh? Then do tell us, Lord Sharp, what is your idea of a perfect companion?
Someone who is not weak.
Ha! You would never tolerate anyone who might best you with that blade you wear like it is part of your flesh.
On the contrary, someone who can beat me would be quite intriguing.
Fie on that! I beat you yesterday.
A lucky break. I do not mean once or twice, or upon occasion. I mean someone who can really beat me. Yes, that sounds like someone I would keep.
What the devil does 'really beat' mean? Be clear, Sharp!
Not you, how is that for clear? Not good enough? Hmm…well, how about someone who can beat me one thousand times?
You are demanding, and picky, and ask the impossible. Steward, more wine!
They'd all been drunk at the time – outrageously drunk, and more than a few pieces of club furniture had met its end that night. He recalled that only because everything about that night was etched into his mind as deeply as his own name.
Not that he had been part of it; they probably had not even noticed he was there. He was always there, tucked into his corner to study the night away – where he could watch the table nearest the windows, the table of which Sharp and his friends, all of them two years Epee's senior, made regular use.
Where he could watch Sharp, with whom he'd been so infatuated after meeting him briefly shortly after his arrival at school.
Sharp who had never noticed him, had not even remembered their being introduced.
Not until the first time Epee beat him at swords, a mere two days after that damned conversation.
That had been victory number one, and nine years later he was one victory away from meeting Sharp's challenge. One more victory, one more blank to be filled in his book, and he would be perfect for Sharp.
Nine years was a lot of time to realize and admit he was stupid, that as drunk as he was Sharp probably did not even recall that long ago conversation. But somewhere along the way, infatuation had turned into obsession, and obsession had grown and matured and blossomed into love.
He froze as the main door creaked open, but relaxed when he recognized the figure in the doorway. "Well, well, the grand and glorious Master Swordsman's apprentice, come to visit his humble stepbrother."
"Epee, there are many words to describe you," Dagger retorted, "and humble is not one of them. I was coming to visit Hammer and heard you got into yet another duel with Sharp. One of these days, the two of you are going to kill each other."
Summoning a smile was easy; jests and laughs and levity were always easy to summon. He threw an arm around Dagger's shoulders and steered him back out of the warehouse. "Nonsense, Main Gauche. Lord Sharp is madly in love with me and simply does not know any other way to express it. One of these days, he will come to his senses and be even more embarrassing to look upon than you when you gaze with star-struck eyes upon his Highness."
"I do not," Dagger hissed. "Stop calling me that."
"What? Your name?" Epee asked blandly, and this time the grin was genuine.
Dagger all but stamped his foot. "You have everyone calling me that now! It's not my name!"
"Main Gauche!" The cries came from across the street, a flock of girls giggling and smiling and waving as they passed by. Others took notice, adding their own cries and greetings.
Epee snickered, and dragged his brother along. "Your cheeks are red, my dear Main Gauche. Aren't you used to your new fame?"
"Shut up," Dagger said. "Just shut up. I have blackmail against you now, so do what I say."
"Well, if you're going to be that way," Epee said with an exaggerated sniff – it was true, except that Dagger would never really consider such a thing. Without Dagger, he never would have been able to acquire the warehouse without his father finding out.
Not that he'd act too grateful; that would not be acting as people expected.
Dagger rolled his eyes and shrugged off the arm still draped across his shoulders. "Would you like to come eat lunch with Hammer and I?"
"That sounds splendid. Let me nip back to retrieve a few things I left in the warehouse."
"Meet us at the Blue Fish, then," Dagger replied, and with a wave vanished into an alleyway to avoid the crowded streets.
Epee returned quickly to the warehouse, striding to the back to retrieve his book. His fingers brushed feather-light across the fresh entry, heart speeding up again even as he tried to remind himself it would likely not go the way he had hoped and dreamed and imagined over the past nine years. How could it?
Yet he could no more give up that hope than he could breathing. He had worked too hard to give up so lightly. Until Sharp looked at him and refused his suit, he would persevere. "One more," he said softly, and damned if he would not make it the greatest duel, the greatest victory, in his long years of dueling.
Back outside, he quickly retraced part of the route he and Dagger had taken before. Having no need to avoid the crowds, he eschewed the side streets and alleys and kept the main streets. He whistled as he walked, enjoying the throng, the hustle and bustle of ordinary life, so different from the reserved, stately streets where his father's townhouse resided.
To think someday soon it would be his own wares and merchandise being sold in these shops and markets. Most – if not everyone – would call him stupid or foolish or eccentric, and likely far worse besides, but he could not help himself. Noble life was stifling.
He was not so naïve as to think the poor peasant life idyllic, but there was much to be said for carving his own path. Look at how well it had worked for Dagger to do what he wanted; Epee could only admire. If he tried, he did not doubt he could be quite successful a merchant.
By pure habit he slowed down as he passed by the dueling square, looking to see who might be occupying it now he and Sharp had finished – and nearly fell flat on his face as his step faltered.
No.
No, no, please dear god above no.
Not Mace. Not stupid, obnoxious, evil, ugly Mace.
Epee swallowed around the lump of dismay in his throat and kept walking, forcing himself to smile and whistle and act as though he did not care – did not notice, in fact.
Mace.
Sharp's oldest, dearest friend.
The stupid bastard who had accused Epee of cheating seven years ago. Who had poisoned Sharp against him, and so very nearly ruined everything.
Damn it. How had he not known Mace was back? He'd been overseas for six and a half years; why could he not stay gone just a month or two more? Why had he returned now? Epee wanted to scream in frustration and agony.
He paused near the turnoff to the small street where he would be meeting Dagger and Hammer, keeping to the crowds and shadows as he turned to look once more toward the dueling square.
Epee knew he was attractive. His hair was light brown with the faintest hints of red, just past his shoulders and healthy, with just a hint of wave. His eyes were hazel, nothing special, but he'd been complimented on their clarity before. Much of his time was spent in fencing, the rest of it in walking back and forth across the city as he secretly pursued his merchant prince dream. He was tall and lithe and fit. None of his one night lovers had ever complained about him.
For all that, he could not even begin to compete with bloody Mace.
Tall and broad and strong, with the sort of golden features about which sonnets were composed, and women sighed and giggled. In school, he'd never spent a night alone, and Epee doubted that had changed since they had finished school. Being abroad had given his skin a deep gold tone, and he wore clothes that were fine enough for royalty.
Sharp came just to his shoulder, and stood as close to Mace as only friends would, smiling in a way that he never had at Epee.
No, he could not even begin to compete with Mace. His only real moment of good fortune had been Mace's announcement that he was going abroad for several years.
Epee turned away, appetite vanished as he realized his plans might well and truly come to naught now. Mace had never liked him, for reasons Epee had never been able to deduce. Now that he was back, and after learning of all the duels he had fought with Sharp…if he did not know of them already…
It did not bear thinking upon.
Feeling utterly wretched, Epee stopped once more, pulling in deep breaths and letting them out slowly. Bit by bit, he managed to dredge up his smiles, his jests, his carefree manner.
Then, and only then, did he finally enter the tavern and look for Dagger, who beckoned him eagerly and ordered a fresh round of drinks.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 11:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 01:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 01:17 pm (UTC)I totally squee'd when I saw Dagger make an appearance. Which is quite embarrassing when you're at work. Even if you're not on the clock yet, that makes it even worse.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 01:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 01:36 pm (UTC)I'm fully prepared to hate Mace at your say-so. So far Epee seems not to quite hate him, precisely... he seems more... upset that the best friend of his love interest hates him. Hm.
Oh! Also, I love love love that Epee has also worked towards the merchant thing all these years. Wanting to be his own man, and having an interest outside of his obsession with Sharp rounds him out so nicely. ^_^
Can't wait to see more! Also, I hope your internet behaves. *snugs*
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 02:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 02:31 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 02:41 pm (UTC)Still need to catch up on your latest stuff, but couldn't resist the MG spin off *_*
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 02:46 pm (UTC)But first! I am appearing with another pesky question. (I know, I seem to be full of these). Okay, two pesky questions, really.
1. Do you not exist on fictionpress any longer? I fail at finding you on fictionpress.
2. There was this story, set in modern times, where there was a rich kid, and something about rainbow hair or... uhm... I don't know, it's been several years. That was you, wasn't it? Uhm, where can I find it? It was a highschool type thing -- not your usual stuff, but very sweet still.
(Sorry - I know I keep asking about in-the-past things; I am just lately on a re-reading kick, so this is how my mind goes.)
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 02:52 pm (UTC)This means that I have found Rainbow.
I guess the question now is -- is Rainbow on your personal site anywhere? Or is it only available on fiction press? My brain is so terribly disorganized; I know that Rainbow would be under another header to encompass all of the stories set in that universe, but I can't remember what that name would be because I am MADE OF FAIL. I mean, I think it was the name of the kid's family's company... or something...
I am so senile. This is it. This is senility. X_X Er, sorry to inflict said senility on you.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 03:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 10:53 pm (UTC)The only reason Rainbow hasn't vanished entirely from the internets is that my existence has been threatened if it disappears totally. It was not bad for a first story, but I don't really like it myself anymore ^^
You have an awesome memory though, cause everything you say is correct ^_^
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 03:44 pm (UTC)I can't wait to find out what happens next. Poor Epee. *hugs him*
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 05:26 pm (UTC)Anyway, more praise after reading!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 05:34 pm (UTC)But yes, this is wonderful. Please no Mace/Sharp snogging though? Poor Epee, he has worked so hard.
no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 06:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-05 10:02 pm (UTC)oh more please? pretty please? i don't know who to want together, because sharp has some redeeming to do (oblivious much?) and wtf is up with mace randomly accusing people of cheating?? backstory...?
thanks!!
no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 01:29 am (UTC)Epee is absolutely adorable. I love how he's keeping track of the duels and telling himself that it's going to come to nothing but not being able to keep from hoping anyway. Ulgh, but I do not like this Mace character. Why did he claim Epee cheated? ^___^ My
romantic sidedeductive skills want to say it's because he knew Sharp had affection for Epee but didn't want to lose him (either as a friend or with the potential for more). That he went right out and accused Epee of cheating, when it's obvious how much import Sharp places on dueling speaks to that as well. He's smart and quite likely a bastard (but possibly not if you want to work it into a threesome ^__~ Then it could be that he didn't want Epee to fall to Sharp's charms).And I love love love that Epee is trying to branch out on his own like Dagger did. ^___^ Their (brotherly) affection is awesome, and it's good to see that Dagger is doing well (and is so adorably flustered to be called Main Gauche). I hope to see more glimpses of him and Katan, because I am a total sucker for cross-story references like that. And uh, I'm going to shut up now because I know I've got more stories to babble about. ^___^
no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 06:26 am (UTC)Then again Mace may have recalled that drunken night too. There was that, "Not you, how is that for clear?" that was not addressed to Epee but to Mace (I'm thinking). If Mace is in love with Sharp, that would have hurt and is an excellent reason for him to go away for awhile.
*encourages the author to write more for to reveal many things*
no subject
Date: 2008-06-06 07:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-07 02:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-09 01:10 am (UTC)