tc-doherty

[tc-doherty]

taught myself beading over the last few weeks and have been making these little pins with designs inspired by weaving patterns

#these are so cute!

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Eleven

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife

@muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim

@unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

But it didn't end up only being the four of them. To her surprise Errys and Petrich saw them and joined in, along with Karles and another noble lady she had not been introduced to. But this dance required very little singing, and a great deal of pairing off before separating and pairing off with someone else, and so Patrice found herself unexpectedly in the middle of several conversations at once.

Johan said to her, "All we mean to do is offer you our hand in friendship, Lady Dragon. Now that you're interacting with the court, we finally have a chance to do so."

As the two of them stepped careful circles around each other, Patrice responded. "I don't understand why you should want any such thing."

"Humans are sociable, we enjoy making new friends." He grinned. "We might like it especially when the potential friend in question is unusual and intriguing. We're also very curious, you know. Horrible busybodies."

Patrice could hardly argue with that!

When she came round to pair off with Rothert, she couldn't help but ask "Did you really throw your jousting match so that Johan could advance? You were fighting for the princess, so I'm sure that doesn't reflect well on her."

He laughed. "She already knew I wouldn't win. We are cousins, you know."

Patrice looked at him doubtfully. He didn't look anything like the royal family.

“My father is the king-consort’s brother, who married a Juskan noble,” he explained. “Johan’s father is the queen’s brother. Although we initially grew up at our family estates, once we became squires we moved into the palace here with our royal cousins."

"Then Dame Errys is also your cousin?"

He nodded. "That's true, but we don't know her particularly well. Never met her before this tournament."

The next handoff brought her to the side of the woman in question.

"I have to thank you," Errys said as they danced. "You being here has made it so that I'm not the center of attention, and for that I'm truly grateful. Things could be awkward otherwise."

"Oh, with your family?"

"So to speak." Errys swung her around before speaking again. "I never do less than my best of course, but I have to admit I didn't really expect to win the tournament, certainly never planned on coming face-to-face with any of my estranged family members. I have no idea what to say to them."

"That makes two of us."

Errys only laughed.

The next turn brought her to Sir Karles who was polite though distant, and then to his lady who – seemingly due to shyness – did not say a single word. She did not even take part in a few places that required singing, though she must've certainly known the words. And then she found herself paired up with Petrich.

Patrice wasn't exactly small, she was taller than all of the women she'd met so far, and taller than some of the men too, but Petrich dwarfed her. His hair and beard were darker than either Felisjyta's or Rozhalea's, much closer to brown, and both had been trussed up in several complicated looking plaits. He wore the same style of clothing as Felisjyta, though in shades of blue, brown, and white.

"Lady Dragon, it is an honor," he told her.

The reverence in his voice was more than Patrice could respond to, so she merely said, "You fought very well in the tournament."

He shook his head. "If you want to see something impressive, you can attend the melee tomorrow. I'm more suited for such things."

"Perhaps."

"After all this is done," he said, "we would be happy to have you return to Serze with us. It would suit you better, the wilderness. Dragons aren't meant to remain trapped in such places as this."

"Maybe I should like to see it, someday."

And then she found herself face-to-face with Felisjyta again.

"For someone who didn't know how to dance half an hour ago, you're doing quite well," said Felisjyta.

"I admit I am enjoying myself more than I thought I would. Just like the tournament, and many other things at court," Patrice said. "As long as I concentrate on one thing at a time."

"See? It's not so terrible, even if it is a little more complicated than the way dragons do things. Or Serzeks for that matter." Felisjyta smiled here. "Just concentrate on living, the rest will follow in time."

"How draconian of you."

"I believe some things are the same, whether you are a dragon or a human."

And thus the dance circled around again and she found herself with Johan as her partner. She grabbed for the threads of the multiple conversations she had been pulled into.

"Rothert says that the two of you are related to the royal family, does that make you royalty as well?

"We aren't in line for the throne if that's what you're asking," he said with a chuckle. "It's in the bylaws of the country that knights aren't allowed to rule. The two of us were rather pushed in that direction, though we intended it anyway. There are already more than enough people in the line of succession without adding us and our siblings to the mix."

"Why can't you rule?" Patrice asked, intrigued. For as much as she complained to herself, she could admit that humans also fascinated her with their endless complexities and rules, so different from the stable and mostly solitary dragons.

Johan thought about it for a minute. "Well naturally, any ruler needs to be able to fight. The rulers, and the heirs for that matter, are expected to be on the field of battle if necessary. They need to know how to direct troops. But for a stable country, a ruler needs to know more than just war. So knights, who dedicate our lives to the study of war, wouldn't make a good fit. After a time there just developed a tradition of the oldest children in noble families becoming knights in a show of deference to the current ruling family."

"That actually makes something resembling sense," Patrice said, surprised.

He laughed. "I'm glad something does. In our case it was even more necessary. Rothert's older sister accepted an alliance marriage back to Juska, and his younger brother will take over the family estate. I'm a knight as well as marrying off, which leaves my little sister to run the estate. All good ways of saying 'we're not a threat'. More royal families have been undone by relatives than by outsiders."

"Is it really such a common thing that your families need to worry about it?"

"Lady Patrice, humans have an endless capacity for most things, greed and lust for power being two of them."

And on that disturbing note, he handed her off to Rothert.

"Hello again, beautiful lady," he said.

Patrice could only roll her eyes. "We aren’t even the same species," she told him. Although, it's not like that had stopped her father, now had it?

"Ah, you have much to learn about human culture, such as the games played between men and maids. There is no need to be alarmed, courtly romance has little to do with actual romance. It really is just a game." He winked. "Besides, everyone knows that Juskan men are fiery and passionate and great lovers of beauty. It is my duty to offer every lovely young lady here a shower of compliments and praise."

"And now we're back to humans not making sense."

"It doesn't need to make sense to you, but you can take my word for it, you won't lack for dance partners all evening." He laughed, and even Patrice had to smile. His attitude was somewhat infectious.

He continued to shower her with increasingly more ridiculous compliments until finally it was time to change partners again. "Off with you then, stop pestering me," she told him with mock severity.

He kissed the back of her hand lightly and left her to Errys's company.

Much to her surprise, Patrice found that Rothert had been correct. She didn't lack for partners all evening. As soon as one round or reel was completed, another nearby would scoop her up. It isn't that it wasn't fun, but it was simply so chaotic. The constant movement, constant noise, the bright light of hundreds of candles, and the overwhelming array of colors. Patrice had never experienced things like this before, and found herself, all of a sudden, quite overwhelmed. Somewhere past two in the morning she fled into the gardens and made her way back to her suite in the dark and silence.

Patrice did not attend the melee the next day.

She did not leave her suite.

She hardly even left her bed. She spent the day alone, drifting between restless sleep and pondering the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

Patrice had told the maids early on not to bother with her. She could hear them chattering and gossiping in the main room, working on the wardrobe she was to take with her to summer court. The three of them would not be enough to make such clothing in only a few days' time. She knew they had invited some of their friends and sisters into her suite to help, but that did not concern her. What would they do? Steal the jewelry she barely tolerated anyway?

Patrice tuned them out the best she could.

Dragons lived long lives, and were rarely impulsive. They adapted, certainly, but they still took comfort in planning and logic. Patrice's life among the humans – brief as it had been so far – had been anything but planned or logical. Instead, others had taken control, dragging her along from one thing to another: the carousel, the tournament, the banquet, the dance. Now, somehow, Patrice was a lady in this human court, and expected to act as such.

She wasn't sure she could escape that role now. Certainly, there were other places in the human world to go. But that would just be more humans, and more traditions that she had to learn, more expectations placed on her, and even less control.

Patrice rolled over and stared at one of the tapestries in her room, the scene of purple gray mountains, dark forests, and the blood red of a setting sun. It was the sort of place a dragon would live.

She couldn't live with the dragons. Even if she had the ability to approach them, they would know her for a halfbreed immediately. Presumably they would exile her as they had exiled her mother.

Patrice listened to the maids talking and laughing in the main room. That was another consideration, she could not live among commoners in any country – she had no useful skills to offer, no talent with which to make a living, no knowledge to impart.

She knew she could return to the tower, but the thought of going back made her heart freeze. For all Patrice's life, it had just been her and her mother, with few exceptions. Some dragons ignored the exile and came to visit them, but those that did stopped by rarely.

For all that her mother had loved humans, Patrice had been forbidden from crossing the wall out of the old kingdom alone, and from even being on the grounds when knights drew near. It had been a long and lonely childhood, though she was only realizing it now. The thought of returning, even if her mother had been alive, did not sit well. With her mother dead, she didn't think she could bear it.

Patrice had never realized how lonely she had been, not until being here among all these people. Like a thirsty woman in the desert who had finally found an oasis, she could not face the idea of going back to such a solitary life. Even if the number of people here was overwhelming, it was still better than complete solitude.

But what were her options here? To simply be swept along in court politics, to spend her life facing fake flirtation and constantly needing to second-guess whether she could trust someone?

While her maids giggled and laughed in the sitting room, Patrice quietly wept in hers. Burning tears singed her pillows and ate small holes in the fabric of her nightgown. She wept for her mother, and for being the way she was, and for not knowing what to do or who to trust. She wept harder because she'd been trying not to – she hadn't wanted to show any sign of weakness to the humans of the court. Now she couldn't stop. All the grief, the anger, the uncertainty all came out at once, leaving her exhausted, empty, and cold.

That was how Felisjyta found Patrice that evening – with red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Felisjyta had only come to give her something to eat, but when she saw Patrice's stricken look, she had no choice but to stay.

She shut the door behind her, set her platter aside, and gathered Patrice into her arms. "Oh, Patrice," she said, resting her forehead against Patrice's in the way dragons did. "Everything is going to be fine."

Patrice had thought she was out of tears, but getting comforted by someone just set her off again. She curled up against Felisjyta's shoulder and wept.

Felisjyta just held her and stroked her hair and whispered encouragements. It couldn't have been comfortable for the knight, but she held on despite the heat of the tears and the prick of too sharp nails on her skin.

The two of them sat that way in the dark for a long while after Patrice had stopped crying again. At some point, Felisjyta slowly disentangled herself from the dragon and moved to light one of the candles on the bedside table. "I'm sorry," she said. "I probably shouldn't have pushed you so hard. I know I can be a little bit too oblivious to other people's feelings. I should've noticed how upset you are."

"No," Patrice said. The word came out as half laugh and half sob. "I didn't want anyone to notice. All of this is just…it's so much. And I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Who does?" Felisjyta asked.

Patrice shook her head. "Everything has changed so fast, and I had no say in any of it. I still have no say. And I miss my mother. Even if she could be just as overbearing, at least I always knew what to expect. At least I knew that she cared about me and that I could trust her. And this," she pulled the lump of stone out from under her pillow, "is going away so fast! How can you expect to express all your grief in such a short time?"

Felisjyta sat back down on the bed. "I told you in the beginning, Patrice. Humans grieve together. We comfort one another. It's all right for you to be upset, and to act like you're upset."

"I don't want any humans to see me as weak. I don't want them to know how out of place I am here." The thought hovered at the back of her mind that she was out of place everywhere but now, finally, there were no more tears to shed over that particular fact.

Felisjyta laughed. "You silly, stubborn little dragon, don't you think everybody already knows how out of place you are? I believe that's something a lot of people find endearing, actually."

Patrice said nothing.

"You just lost your mother, we know you must be upset," Felisjyta continued. "No one here would expect you not to be upset. In the future you can come to me. Or I'm sure your maids would be happy to fuss over you. You don't give them nearly enough to do as it is."

"I suppose," Patrice said. But she knew that she would continue to grieve in private.

Felisjyta gave her a sad look, as if she knew it too, but didn't dwell on it. "I am sorry. I should have checked on you last night. I admit I rather lost track of the evening."

"I wouldn't have wanted to see you last night."

"Fair enough. Do you think you can eat something now? I know you didn't have much at the banquet. Everything seems better on a full stomach."

Patrice gave a nod of assent and took the platter Felisjyta handed her. It was deer meat again, but Patrice had never turned her nose up at deer before and she wasn't going to start now. Although she did have to wonder where Felisjyta was getting it. Perhaps hunting actually was allowed on the royal family's grounds. She could also admit that it was kind of nice having someone else provide for her. "How was the melee?" She asked before she began eating.

Felisjyta leaned back on the bed. She waved one hand in a lazy gesture as she spoke. "Chaotic, loud, and dangerous," she said. "Sir Eddard came out with a broken arm, and he wasn't the only one."

"Are you all right?" Patrice paused to look over the knight. Felisjyta seemed much the same as usual, dressed in a loose white tunic with red embroidery and blue britches. She didn't look as if she were in any pain.

"Fine, just fine," said Felisjyta. "I got knocked on my ass within the first five minutes anyway."

Reassured, Patrice went back to nibbling on the meat. "Who won?"

"Petrich. I think his size worked to his advantage."

"The duchess must be pleased."

"As a cat in cream. We came second in the joust, first in the melee, and first in the archery contest." There was an odd, discontent look on Felisjyta's face that Patrice couldn't even begin to decipher. But she couldn't help but remember Rozhalea's insulting words from the previous evening.

"But it doesn't please you?"

"Not that," Felisjyta said. "Rozhalea, oh… I don't know. We've been working so hard since we came here, training all the time, practicing those stupid rules with all the new armor and everything. It's like she's trying to turn us into something we aren't. And those of us who fall short of that ideal…"

"I understand," Patrice said, and patted Felisjyta's shoulder.

The knight laughed. "You better than anyone. But hey now, there's no reason to talk about depressing things like this. I'll tell you about the melee."

Patrice ate as Felisjyta described the melee from start to finish and let the words wash over her. Hearing about it, Patrice was glad she hadn’t gone. It sounded even louder and more chaotic than the joust. She didn’t think her frayed nerves would have been able to handle it.

The food, the company, and the chatter helped. By the time Felisjyta was ready to leave Patrice felt, if not great, then at least good enough. She bid the knight a goodnight, and fell into the sort of dead sleep that one can only achieve when truly exhausted.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#writeblr #writing #tc's writing #dragon's daughter #femslash #queer fantasy #fantasy novels #authors on tumblr #reblog

[tc-doherty]

fantasy story: but we grew complacent, indulgent, arrogant, spoiled by this era of prosperity and splendour, and in our short-sighted greed and vanity, we ended it. me at 15: I hate this stupid trope. People aren't going to just turn stupid and ruin everything just because things have been "too good" for "too long". Why does this author think that people are inherently stupid and evil? people on social media in 2024: I'm not going to vaccinate my dogs or my children because polio, measels and rabies are so rare they're not a real threat anyway uwu me at 30: Ah. I see.

#:(

[tc-doherty]

I'm leaving Monday morning but since I'm functionally not online on the weekends, I'm really kind of leaving in half an hour

I've got my queue running as usual but don't expect to see me

If you've got anything to say to me, send it to me in an ask or link me in direct messaging otherwise I probably will not see it lol

[tc-doherty]

My books came today! So I already owned Fanpai Baihua Guanghuan (The Villain's White Lotus Halo) and Jian Chu Hanshan:

and now I have Jian Jiang Shan too!!

It came in a really nice box, and is hard cover???? Dang! So now I have them all XD

#just silly things #books #but I wish the author would come back :'( #I finished JCHS today #WLH is still my favorite #but a lot of things I like about it are also in JCHS too #very fun overall #Can't wait to read JJS!!

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Eleven

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife

@muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim

@unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

But it didn't end up only being the four of them. To her surprise Errys and Petrich saw them and joined in, along with Karles and another noble lady she had not been introduced to. But this dance required very little singing, and a great deal of pairing off before separating and pairing off with someone else, and so Patrice found herself unexpectedly in the middle of several conversations at once.

Johan said to her, "All we mean to do is offer you our hand in friendship, Lady Dragon. Now that you're interacting with the court, we finally have a chance to do so."

As the two of them stepped careful circles around each other, Patrice responded. "I don't understand why you should want any such thing."

"Humans are sociable, we enjoy making new friends." He grinned. "We might like it especially when the potential friend in question is unusual and intriguing. We're also very curious, you know. Horrible busybodies."

Patrice could hardly argue with that!

When she came round to pair off with Rothert, she couldn't help but ask "Did you really throw your jousting match so that Johan could advance? You were fighting for the princess, so I'm sure that doesn't reflect well on her."

He laughed. "She already knew I wouldn't win. We are cousins, you know."

Patrice looked at him doubtfully. He didn't look anything like the royal family.

“My father is the king-consort’s brother, who married a Juskan noble,” he explained. “Johan’s father is the queen’s brother. Although we initially grew up at our family estates, once we became squires we moved into the palace here with our royal cousins."

"Then Dame Errys is also your cousin?"

He nodded. "That's true, but we don't know her particularly well. Never met her before this tournament."

The next handoff brought her to the side of the woman in question.

"I have to thank you," Errys said as they danced. "You being here has made it so that I'm not the center of attention, and for that I'm truly grateful. Things could be awkward otherwise."

"Oh, with your family?"

"So to speak." Errys swung her around before speaking again. "I never do less than my best of course, but I have to admit I didn't really expect to win the tournament, certainly never planned on coming face-to-face with any of my estranged family members. I have no idea what to say to them."

"That makes two of us."

Errys only laughed.

The next turn brought her to Sir Karles who was polite though distant, and then to his lady who – seemingly due to shyness – did not say a single word. She did not even take part in a few places that required singing, though she must've certainly known the words. And then she found herself paired up with Petrich.

Patrice wasn't exactly small, she was taller than all of the women she'd met so far, and taller than some of the men too, but Petrich dwarfed her. His hair and beard were darker than either Felisjyta's or Rozhalea's, much closer to brown, and both had been trussed up in several complicated looking plaits. He wore the same style of clothing as Felisjyta, though in shades of blue, brown, and white.

"Lady Dragon, it is an honor," he told her.

The reverence in his voice was more than Patrice could respond to, so she merely said, "You fought very well in the tournament."

He shook his head. "If you want to see something impressive, you can attend the melee tomorrow. I'm more suited for such things."

"Perhaps."

"After all this is done," he said, "we would be happy to have you return to Serze with us. It would suit you better, the wilderness. Dragons aren't meant to remain trapped in such places as this."

"Maybe I should like to see it, someday."

And then she found herself face-to-face with Felisjyta again.

"For someone who didn't know how to dance half an hour ago, you're doing quite well," said Felisjyta.

"I admit I am enjoying myself more than I thought I would. Just like the tournament, and many other things at court," Patrice said. "As long as I concentrate on one thing at a time."

"See? It's not so terrible, even if it is a little more complicated than the way dragons do things. Or Serzeks for that matter." Felisjyta smiled here. "Just concentrate on living, the rest will follow in time."

"How draconian of you."

"I believe some things are the same, whether you are a dragon or a human."

And thus the dance circled around again and she found herself with Johan as her partner. She grabbed for the threads of the multiple conversations she had been pulled into.

"Rothert says that the two of you are related to the royal family, does that make you royalty as well?

"We aren't in line for the throne if that's what you're asking," he said with a chuckle. "It's in the bylaws of the country that knights aren't allowed to rule. The two of us were rather pushed in that direction, though we intended it anyway. There are already more than enough people in the line of succession without adding us and our siblings to the mix."

"Why can't you rule?" Patrice asked, intrigued. For as much as she complained to herself, she could admit that humans also fascinated her with their endless complexities and rules, so different from the stable and mostly solitary dragons.

Johan thought about it for a minute. "Well naturally, any ruler needs to be able to fight. The rulers, and the heirs for that matter, are expected to be on the field of battle if necessary. They need to know how to direct troops. But for a stable country, a ruler needs to know more than just war. So knights, who dedicate our lives to the study of war, wouldn't make a good fit. After a time there just developed a tradition of the oldest children in noble families becoming knights in a show of deference to the current ruling family."

"That actually makes something resembling sense," Patrice said, surprised.

He laughed. "I'm glad something does. In our case it was even more necessary. Rothert's older sister accepted an alliance marriage back to Juska, and his younger brother will take over the family estate. I'm a knight as well as marrying off, which leaves my little sister to run the estate. All good ways of saying 'we're not a threat'. More royal families have been undone by relatives than by outsiders."

"Is it really such a common thing that your families need to worry about it?"

"Lady Patrice, humans have an endless capacity for most things, greed and lust for power being two of them."

And on that disturbing note, he handed her off to Rothert.

"Hello again, beautiful lady," he said.

Patrice could only roll her eyes. "We aren’t even the same species," she told him. Although, it's not like that had stopped her father, now had it?

"Ah, you have much to learn about human culture, such as the games played between men and maids. There is no need to be alarmed, courtly romance has little to do with actual romance. It really is just a game." He winked. "Besides, everyone knows that Juskan men are fiery and passionate and great lovers of beauty. It is my duty to offer every lovely young lady here a shower of compliments and praise."

"And now we're back to humans not making sense."

"It doesn't need to make sense to you, but you can take my word for it, you won't lack for dance partners all evening." He laughed, and even Patrice had to smile. His attitude was somewhat infectious.

He continued to shower her with increasingly more ridiculous compliments until finally it was time to change partners again. "Off with you then, stop pestering me," she told him with mock severity.

He kissed the back of her hand lightly and left her to Errys's company.

Much to her surprise, Patrice found that Rothert had been correct. She didn't lack for partners all evening. As soon as one round or reel was completed, another nearby would scoop her up. It isn't that it wasn't fun, but it was simply so chaotic. The constant movement, constant noise, the bright light of hundreds of candles, and the overwhelming array of colors. Patrice had never experienced things like this before, and found herself, all of a sudden, quite overwhelmed. Somewhere past two in the morning she fled into the gardens and made her way back to her suite in the dark and silence.

Patrice did not attend the melee the next day.

She did not leave her suite.

She hardly even left her bed. She spent the day alone, drifting between restless sleep and pondering the predicament she'd gotten herself into.

Patrice had told the maids early on not to bother with her. She could hear them chattering and gossiping in the main room, working on the wardrobe she was to take with her to summer court. The three of them would not be enough to make such clothing in only a few days' time. She knew they had invited some of their friends and sisters into her suite to help, but that did not concern her. What would they do? Steal the jewelry she barely tolerated anyway?

Patrice tuned them out the best she could.

Dragons lived long lives, and were rarely impulsive. They adapted, certainly, but they still took comfort in planning and logic. Patrice's life among the humans – brief as it had been so far – had been anything but planned or logical. Instead, others had taken control, dragging her along from one thing to another: the carousel, the tournament, the banquet, the dance. Now, somehow, Patrice was a lady in this human court, and expected to act as such.

She wasn't sure she could escape that role now. Certainly, there were other places in the human world to go. But that would just be more humans, and more traditions that she had to learn, more expectations placed on her, and even less control.

Patrice rolled over and stared at one of the tapestries in her room, the scene of purple gray mountains, dark forests, and the blood red of a setting sun. It was the sort of place a dragon would live.

She couldn't live with the dragons. Even if she had the ability to approach them, they would know her for a halfbreed immediately. Presumably they would exile her as they had exiled her mother.

Patrice listened to the maids talking and laughing in the main room. That was another consideration, she could not live among commoners in any country – she had no useful skills to offer, no talent with which to make a living, no knowledge to impart.

She knew she could return to the tower, but the thought of going back made her heart freeze. For all Patrice's life, it had just been her and her mother, with few exceptions. Some dragons ignored the exile and came to visit them, but those that did stopped by rarely.

For all that her mother had loved humans, Patrice had been forbidden from crossing the wall out of the old kingdom alone, and from even being on the grounds when knights drew near. It had been a long and lonely childhood, though she was only realizing it now. The thought of returning, even if her mother had been alive, did not sit well. With her mother dead, she didn't think she could bear it.

Patrice had never realized how lonely she had been, not until being here among all these people. Like a thirsty woman in the desert who had finally found an oasis, she could not face the idea of going back to such a solitary life. Even if the number of people here was overwhelming, it was still better than complete solitude.

But what were her options here? To simply be swept along in court politics, to spend her life facing fake flirtation and constantly needing to second-guess whether she could trust someone?

While her maids giggled and laughed in the sitting room, Patrice quietly wept in hers. Burning tears singed her pillows and ate small holes in the fabric of her nightgown. She wept for her mother, and for being the way she was, and for not knowing what to do or who to trust. She wept harder because she'd been trying not to – she hadn't wanted to show any sign of weakness to the humans of the court. Now she couldn't stop. All the grief, the anger, the uncertainty all came out at once, leaving her exhausted, empty, and cold.

That was how Felisjyta found Patrice that evening – with red rimmed eyes and tear streaked cheeks. Felisjyta had only come to give her something to eat, but when she saw Patrice's stricken look, she had no choice but to stay.

She shut the door behind her, set her platter aside, and gathered Patrice into her arms. "Oh, Patrice," she said, resting her forehead against Patrice's in the way dragons did. "Everything is going to be fine."

Patrice had thought she was out of tears, but getting comforted by someone just set her off again. She curled up against Felisjyta's shoulder and wept.

Felisjyta just held her and stroked her hair and whispered encouragements. It couldn't have been comfortable for the knight, but she held on despite the heat of the tears and the prick of too sharp nails on her skin.

The two of them sat that way in the dark for a long while after Patrice had stopped crying again. At some point, Felisjyta slowly disentangled herself from the dragon and moved to light one of the candles on the bedside table. "I'm sorry," she said. "I probably shouldn't have pushed you so hard. I know I can be a little bit too oblivious to other people's feelings. I should've noticed how upset you are."

"No," Patrice said. The word came out as half laugh and half sob. "I didn't want anyone to notice. All of this is just…it's so much. And I have no idea what I'm doing."

"Who does?" Felisjyta asked.

Patrice shook her head. "Everything has changed so fast, and I had no say in any of it. I still have no say. And I miss my mother. Even if she could be just as overbearing, at least I always knew what to expect. At least I knew that she cared about me and that I could trust her. And this," she pulled the lump of stone out from under her pillow, "is going away so fast! How can you expect to express all your grief in such a short time?"

Felisjyta sat back down on the bed. "I told you in the beginning, Patrice. Humans grieve together. We comfort one another. It's all right for you to be upset, and to act like you're upset."

"I don't want any humans to see me as weak. I don't want them to know how out of place I am here." The thought hovered at the back of her mind that she was out of place everywhere but now, finally, there were no more tears to shed over that particular fact.

Felisjyta laughed. "You silly, stubborn little dragon, don't you think everybody already knows how out of place you are? I believe that's something a lot of people find endearing, actually."

Patrice said nothing.

"You just lost your mother, we know you must be upset," Felisjyta continued. "No one here would expect you not to be upset. In the future you can come to me. Or I'm sure your maids would be happy to fuss over you. You don't give them nearly enough to do as it is."

"I suppose," Patrice said. But she knew that she would continue to grieve in private.

Felisjyta gave her a sad look, as if she knew it too, but didn't dwell on it. "I am sorry. I should have checked on you last night. I admit I rather lost track of the evening."

"I wouldn't have wanted to see you last night."

"Fair enough. Do you think you can eat something now? I know you didn't have much at the banquet. Everything seems better on a full stomach."

Patrice gave a nod of assent and took the platter Felisjyta handed her. It was deer meat again, but Patrice had never turned her nose up at deer before and she wasn't going to start now. Although she did have to wonder where Felisjyta was getting it. Perhaps hunting actually was allowed on the royal family's grounds. She could also admit that it was kind of nice having someone else provide for her. "How was the melee?" She asked before she began eating.

Felisjyta leaned back on the bed. She waved one hand in a lazy gesture as she spoke. "Chaotic, loud, and dangerous," she said. "Sir Eddard came out with a broken arm, and he wasn't the only one."

"Are you all right?" Patrice paused to look over the knight. Felisjyta seemed much the same as usual, dressed in a loose white tunic with red embroidery and blue britches. She didn't look as if she were in any pain.

"Fine, just fine," said Felisjyta. "I got knocked on my ass within the first five minutes anyway."

Reassured, Patrice went back to nibbling on the meat. "Who won?"

"Petrich. I think his size worked to his advantage."

"The duchess must be pleased."

"As a cat in cream. We came second in the joust, first in the melee, and first in the archery contest." There was an odd, discontent look on Felisjyta's face that Patrice couldn't even begin to decipher. But she couldn't help but remember Rozhalea's insulting words from the previous evening.

"But it doesn't please you?"

"Not that," Felisjyta said. "Rozhalea, oh… I don't know. We've been working so hard since we came here, training all the time, practicing those stupid rules with all the new armor and everything. It's like she's trying to turn us into something we aren't. And those of us who fall short of that ideal…"

"I understand," Patrice said, and patted Felisjyta's shoulder.

The knight laughed. "You better than anyone. But hey now, there's no reason to talk about depressing things like this. I'll tell you about the melee."

Patrice ate as Felisjyta described the melee from start to finish and let the words wash over her. Hearing about it, Patrice was glad she hadn’t gone. It sounded even louder and more chaotic than the joust. She didn’t think her frayed nerves would have been able to handle it.

The food, the company, and the chatter helped. By the time Felisjyta was ready to leave Patrice felt, if not great, then at least good enough. She bid the knight a goodnight, and fell into the sort of dead sleep that one can only achieve when truly exhausted.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#writeblr #writing #tc's writing #dragon's daughter #femslash #queer fantasy #fantasy novels #authors on tumblr

[tc-doherty]

the problem with Untitled 3 is that I have a very funny premise which I love, but I'm really not settled on what kind of direction to take the plot in or even what I want them to be doing so

hopefully I can figure that out by playing around over the next couple of weeks

#writeblr #writing

[tc-doherty]

Sometimes fiction doesn’t have a moral to the story. Sometimes fiction points at something and goes “Ever thought about THAT???” And you look at what it’s pointing at for a bit.

#yeah

[tc-doherty]

the idea actually first came in early 2021, it's only that I've had to focus on more established projects all this time and have never gotten to play with it much

[tc-doherty]

Well I have decided, the WIP I'm taking with me on vacation is Untitled 3

Anglish Novel takes so much research it's not viable

And Kingschild...maybe I don't want my mom reading that over my shoulder hahahaha

But I've never really had time to devote to Untitled 3, so I'm satisfied (and excited) to get some time to work on it

#writeblr #writing

[tc-doherty]

yall gotta be nicer about m/f  bc sometimes u guys like the blandest gay sutff ive ever seen in my life

#honestly

[tc-doherty]

I have a glass nail file that my grandmother got me back when I was in middle school and I must say, it's probably the best gift I've ever received in terms of usage because I have used that nail file ever since

but this morning I used a regular emery board just to fix a snag until I could file it down properly and jesus christ, that's what they feel like???

I haven't used one in so long! the glass one is so much nicer

so anyway, if you like to file your nails a lot I highly recommend getting a glass nail file. They last forever and they feel way nicer than the emery boards

#just silly things #I never cut my nails only file them #so having a nice nail file is a must

[tc-doherty]

i finished reading your story and i must say that, while it's alright, there's so many plot holes because the characters made irrational decisions and didn't think logically 100% of the time. consider fixing this next time please

#hahaha #writing

[tc-doherty]

omg I actually just remembered I have to do a May 20th picture this year lmaoooo

I have enough time I think I can get one turned out XD

#I keep forgetting every year!

[tc-doherty]

I got way too entranced with this character maker on Neka that has approximately a million options, including text boxes (!!)

(it even has options that will allow me to make some of my more...difficult characters like Arwyn!)

there aren't a ton of options for who's speaking but there ARE a ton of options for what's being said and some of them are really funny. I will probably keep playing with it, but I had to make Kit (Tiarnach) and Anrikas first, of course!

#my characters #Untitled 3

[tc-doherty]

I feel like I haven't actually talked about any of my characters in a while. Anybody have any suggestions on a topic (or specific story) they might like to hear about?

#writeblr #my characters

[tc-doherty]

"But why would you want to imagine, read or write about a relationship that wasn't healthy, good or desirable to you personally?"

I genuinely don't know how to explain the concept of fiction to you.

#lol