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tamingthemuse2009-07-18 06:58 pm
slytherin-heart.livejournal.com) wrote in tamingthemuse2009-07-18 06:58 pm
Entry tags:
156 - Sorrow - Burning Books - Slytherin_Heart
This is my first post, so I hope I'm doing it right.
Title: Burning Books
Fandom: None
Prompt: Sorrow
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Sophia would never willingly sacrifice her sister's happiness for her own sense of adventure.
Sophia wasn’t exactly sure when she had become so attached to that book. It wasn’t a particularly good book – it was readable, and she had certainly encountered worse, but it was not by any means a masterpiece. Maybe it was the simple fact that it was a book; she’d been surrounded by the things for her entire life, more or less, and she hated to see one be destroyed like that.
But it was cold, and they didn’t have much of a choice. A burnt book, warming their hands, did more good than it would have in her pack, untouched, while the sisters slowly froze to death in the cold. The next night, and every night after at least until Spring was fully present, they would need to find a place indoors to sleep; this night, they would not be sleeping at all.
Alice, though, seemed to be far more distraught over the necessity than she. Though they both had grown up around books, had made their living off of them, it was Alice who felt a true connection; Sophia had always thought that she would rather have adventures than read about them.
Sophia scooted over closer to her sister, reaching an arm around her shoulder, trying to give her what comfort she could. It was Sophia’s fault that they were in this mess in the first place, and had to go traipsing around the countryside in the middle of the night. It was even Sophia’s fault that, on this particular night, they hadn’t been able to make it to an inn, or even a barn; she had insisted on investigating that damn river, and hadn’t realized how far away they were from civilization.
Alice wouldn’t blame her, though. Alice would say that she could have left without her if she wanted to, and maybe even that the river could be a valuable resource, something worth knowing about later. Sophia would know that Alice was just trying to be nice, that she saw no purpose in fighting right now, when they needed each other more than ever. Sophia didn’t want to make her sister lie, and she didn’t want to get into an argument about it, so she didn’t even apologize.
Looking into the fire, Sophia tried to remember when this had happened – when they had stopped being booksellers and started being… whatever they were. Adventurers? Heroes? She had definitely gotten her wish, no one could deny that, and most of the time she was glad for it. If she didn’t want to, she would never have to go back home again; she would never have to sell another book. But at times such as these, sitting in front of a fiery book, watching her sister practically drown in sorrow at the destruction of something that, in theory, she had held so dear – the thing that, above all else, she had always unconsciously considered a constant – sometimes, she wished that she had never wished for adventure. Sophia knew that she would willingly spend the rest of her life selling books if it meant that she would never have to see that look on her sister’s face again.
Title: Burning Books
Fandom: None
Prompt: Sorrow
Warnings: None
Rating: G
Summary: Sophia would never willingly sacrifice her sister's happiness for her own sense of adventure.
Sophia wasn’t exactly sure when she had become so attached to that book. It wasn’t a particularly good book – it was readable, and she had certainly encountered worse, but it was not by any means a masterpiece. Maybe it was the simple fact that it was a book; she’d been surrounded by the things for her entire life, more or less, and she hated to see one be destroyed like that.
But it was cold, and they didn’t have much of a choice. A burnt book, warming their hands, did more good than it would have in her pack, untouched, while the sisters slowly froze to death in the cold. The next night, and every night after at least until Spring was fully present, they would need to find a place indoors to sleep; this night, they would not be sleeping at all.
Alice, though, seemed to be far more distraught over the necessity than she. Though they both had grown up around books, had made their living off of them, it was Alice who felt a true connection; Sophia had always thought that she would rather have adventures than read about them.
Sophia scooted over closer to her sister, reaching an arm around her shoulder, trying to give her what comfort she could. It was Sophia’s fault that they were in this mess in the first place, and had to go traipsing around the countryside in the middle of the night. It was even Sophia’s fault that, on this particular night, they hadn’t been able to make it to an inn, or even a barn; she had insisted on investigating that damn river, and hadn’t realized how far away they were from civilization.
Alice wouldn’t blame her, though. Alice would say that she could have left without her if she wanted to, and maybe even that the river could be a valuable resource, something worth knowing about later. Sophia would know that Alice was just trying to be nice, that she saw no purpose in fighting right now, when they needed each other more than ever. Sophia didn’t want to make her sister lie, and she didn’t want to get into an argument about it, so she didn’t even apologize.
Looking into the fire, Sophia tried to remember when this had happened – when they had stopped being booksellers and started being… whatever they were. Adventurers? Heroes? She had definitely gotten her wish, no one could deny that, and most of the time she was glad for it. If she didn’t want to, she would never have to go back home again; she would never have to sell another book. But at times such as these, sitting in front of a fiery book, watching her sister practically drown in sorrow at the destruction of something that, in theory, she had held so dear – the thing that, above all else, she had always unconsciously considered a constant – sometimes, she wished that she had never wished for adventure. Sophia knew that she would willingly spend the rest of her life selling books if it meant that she would never have to see that look on her sister’s face again.