Cross the Line
Feb. 18th, 2014 10:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kolFandom: Kingdom RP
Cast: Reed and Lynn
Prompt: 31_days from January “so far, this has been a one-way tale”
FIRST OF ALL HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLY!!!! Secondly this fic is actually a sequel to the fic I’m still writing for you birthday… from last year. Oh man I am the worst T___T. For the timeline, it happens directly after Lynn finds out her grandmother is a Hunter. As always, if I got Lynn wrong, let me know so I can tweak it to your satisfaction :D. ALSO HUZZAH FOR FAMILY DINNERS AND AWKWARD REVELATIONS
He found Lynn on an ancient pea green swing, pushing back and forth with the tips of her bare toes on the redwood porch. Compared to the tiny backyard his family boasted back in San Diego, this yard was massive— the porch Lynn had claimed sanctuary on could easily hold the three generations each Sunday, and even the porch was dwarfed by a wildflower garden and what, to his city trained eyes, appeared to be a soccer field of lush green grace.
Shaded by a cover that had seen better decades, Lynn hardly resembled the down to earth girl he’d given his heart to, a veneer of frost clinging to her sun kissed skin. Reed swallowed, but found his throat still dry, his uncertainty as strong as it had been in the kitchen before her grandmother had blurted the big news. He wanted so much to belong in her world… but the revelations of the last hour made him feel like an outsider for an entirely new reason, one that had absolutely nothing to do with his own shortcomings for a change.
And damned if he didn’t still feel twenty kinds of awkward.
Lynn gave no sign she was aware of his presence— either she was deeply lost in thought or ignoring him entirely. Either way it left the first move to him. His insides as squirrelly as ever, Reed sighed, settling his frame against the pea green cushions, sinking into a hollow generations of her family had created.
“If you were trying to hide from me, this is a pretty terrible place to try it.”
Lynn shook her head, the first acknowledgment of his presence she’d made yet, setting them swinging with a strong push of her feet before curling them up beneath her. “That’s not why I came out here.”
“No seriously, half the windows are aimed on this spot.” Reed squinted up at the faces of her younger cousins, pressing their round faces against the living room’s massive glass windows. He was surprised a certain purple haired cousin was nowhere to be seen— but he wouldn’t put it passed Mara to have a secret viewing spot. “Geesh, spying on kin must run in your blood right along with the whole water warrior thing.”
“Reed.” Lynn’s voice wasn’t quite warning or request for quiet, but carried hints of both. He got the hint, settling deeper into the cushions.
It wasn’t like he had any words left, and swinging on the porch at Lynn’s side was infinitely better than staring helplessly at her brooding form with her youngest cousins surrounding him.
Neither spoke, allowing the momentum of the swing to fall to a faint creak of the ancient metal, a hint of air brushing their skin. The sun was still shining, but the warm and comfort was blocked by the thin shade. They were alone, and time seemed to stand as still as the porch swing; he spied Lynn through the corner of his eyes, but her face gave no sign of what she was thinking, feeling.
He liked to think he was a master of reading Lynn’s body language, and didn’t appreciate the reminder he was still a novice after a year of knowing her.
“I’m sorry for dragging you here,” Lynn finally broke the silence that Reed swore had been trying to crush his body into the pea green cushions, grind his bones into another relic of her family’s history. “Should have warned you better how crazy the family can get.”
“I think all families are a little crazy,” Reed smiled, thinking about what a colorful picture him and Clover made, much less the tumultuous clamor his Mata family was capable of making with far less provocation. “You’ll see when I drag you to one of OUR Sunday dinners. I’ll loan you a pair of earbuds in advance.”
Lynn’s lips were quirked in a faint smile, one that failed to reach her still distant eyes. “I should have guessed she was a Hunter. How else would Mara and I both have our abilities? She’s the only grandparent we share after all.”
“Still doesn’t mean she was a Hunter— it could have skipped a few generations.” Reed shrugged. “I mean, Clover swears there’s no way our father could secretly be a Hunter. You can’t blame yourself for not guessing.”
“I just don’t understand why she didn’t say anything. Years she knew Mara and me were out risking our lives for a legacy we barely had any idea, and she said nothing!” Lynn shook her head, the small smile curling in disgust. “You were lucky, Reed. When you stumbled into all of this, you at least got a rundown on what it all meant. But Mara and I had to figure out everything ourselves.”
“Maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything,” Reed snaked his arm around Lynn’s stiff shoulders, letting his usually lax fingers curl soothingly around her tense muscles. A reminder that here, at least, she wasn’t alone. “If my math is right, she had to be fighting around the second World War— and maybe the whole hunting culture back then was crippled by old ways of thinking. But you and Mara found your own way to fight, and I think it is pretty clear she respects the hell out of both of you.”
“You think so?” Lynn’s voice was brittle and stilted, so unlike her fiercely confident nature that it caught his heart in his throat, and no amount of swallowing would dislodge the errant organ.
Oh Lynn.
Reed squeezed her shoulder, brushing a strand of blue hair away from her temple. “I know so.”
Something shifted in Lynn then, the easing of the stiffness that had held her body rigid and emotions closely guarded. She curled against his side, leaning her head against his, knees folded practically into his lap and both arms curving around his body. It wasn’t the most proper of positions to find themselves in on the porch with the watchful eyes of three generations on them, but Reed was not about to raise his voice to air that concern.
“You’ll get the whole story from her sometime, Lynn.” Reed promised. “And look on the bright side— she thinks having THIS healer in the family is a good thing!”
Lynn’s only answer was to smack his chest, then curl back against him, a perfect fit he could hardly believe was possible.
Reed pushed back with his feet and set the swing swaying with a gentle motion, and the two shared a front row seat to watching the afternoon fall into a brilliant sunset.
It might not have had the best start, but to Reed this was a perfect day, ending with him at Lynn’s side, holding her as she processed the family secret and came to terms with what it meant to her. And he wouldn’t trade this moment shared with her for, well, anything.
Cast: Reed and Lynn
Prompt: 31_days from January “so far, this has been a one-way tale”
FIRST OF ALL HAPPY BIRTHDAY FLY!!!! Secondly this fic is actually a sequel to the fic I’m still writing for you birthday… from last year. Oh man I am the worst T___T. For the timeline, it happens directly after Lynn finds out her grandmother is a Hunter. As always, if I got Lynn wrong, let me know so I can tweak it to your satisfaction :D. ALSO HUZZAH FOR FAMILY DINNERS AND AWKWARD REVELATIONS
He found Lynn on an ancient pea green swing, pushing back and forth with the tips of her bare toes on the redwood porch. Compared to the tiny backyard his family boasted back in San Diego, this yard was massive— the porch Lynn had claimed sanctuary on could easily hold the three generations each Sunday, and even the porch was dwarfed by a wildflower garden and what, to his city trained eyes, appeared to be a soccer field of lush green grace.
Shaded by a cover that had seen better decades, Lynn hardly resembled the down to earth girl he’d given his heart to, a veneer of frost clinging to her sun kissed skin. Reed swallowed, but found his throat still dry, his uncertainty as strong as it had been in the kitchen before her grandmother had blurted the big news. He wanted so much to belong in her world… but the revelations of the last hour made him feel like an outsider for an entirely new reason, one that had absolutely nothing to do with his own shortcomings for a change.
And damned if he didn’t still feel twenty kinds of awkward.
Lynn gave no sign she was aware of his presence— either she was deeply lost in thought or ignoring him entirely. Either way it left the first move to him. His insides as squirrelly as ever, Reed sighed, settling his frame against the pea green cushions, sinking into a hollow generations of her family had created.
“If you were trying to hide from me, this is a pretty terrible place to try it.”
Lynn shook her head, the first acknowledgment of his presence she’d made yet, setting them swinging with a strong push of her feet before curling them up beneath her. “That’s not why I came out here.”
“No seriously, half the windows are aimed on this spot.” Reed squinted up at the faces of her younger cousins, pressing their round faces against the living room’s massive glass windows. He was surprised a certain purple haired cousin was nowhere to be seen— but he wouldn’t put it passed Mara to have a secret viewing spot. “Geesh, spying on kin must run in your blood right along with the whole water warrior thing.”
“Reed.” Lynn’s voice wasn’t quite warning or request for quiet, but carried hints of both. He got the hint, settling deeper into the cushions.
It wasn’t like he had any words left, and swinging on the porch at Lynn’s side was infinitely better than staring helplessly at her brooding form with her youngest cousins surrounding him.
Neither spoke, allowing the momentum of the swing to fall to a faint creak of the ancient metal, a hint of air brushing their skin. The sun was still shining, but the warm and comfort was blocked by the thin shade. They were alone, and time seemed to stand as still as the porch swing; he spied Lynn through the corner of his eyes, but her face gave no sign of what she was thinking, feeling.
He liked to think he was a master of reading Lynn’s body language, and didn’t appreciate the reminder he was still a novice after a year of knowing her.
“I’m sorry for dragging you here,” Lynn finally broke the silence that Reed swore had been trying to crush his body into the pea green cushions, grind his bones into another relic of her family’s history. “Should have warned you better how crazy the family can get.”
“I think all families are a little crazy,” Reed smiled, thinking about what a colorful picture him and Clover made, much less the tumultuous clamor his Mata family was capable of making with far less provocation. “You’ll see when I drag you to one of OUR Sunday dinners. I’ll loan you a pair of earbuds in advance.”
Lynn’s lips were quirked in a faint smile, one that failed to reach her still distant eyes. “I should have guessed she was a Hunter. How else would Mara and I both have our abilities? She’s the only grandparent we share after all.”
“Still doesn’t mean she was a Hunter— it could have skipped a few generations.” Reed shrugged. “I mean, Clover swears there’s no way our father could secretly be a Hunter. You can’t blame yourself for not guessing.”
“I just don’t understand why she didn’t say anything. Years she knew Mara and me were out risking our lives for a legacy we barely had any idea, and she said nothing!” Lynn shook her head, the small smile curling in disgust. “You were lucky, Reed. When you stumbled into all of this, you at least got a rundown on what it all meant. But Mara and I had to figure out everything ourselves.”
“Maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything,” Reed snaked his arm around Lynn’s stiff shoulders, letting his usually lax fingers curl soothingly around her tense muscles. A reminder that here, at least, she wasn’t alone. “If my math is right, she had to be fighting around the second World War— and maybe the whole hunting culture back then was crippled by old ways of thinking. But you and Mara found your own way to fight, and I think it is pretty clear she respects the hell out of both of you.”
“You think so?” Lynn’s voice was brittle and stilted, so unlike her fiercely confident nature that it caught his heart in his throat, and no amount of swallowing would dislodge the errant organ.
Oh Lynn.
Reed squeezed her shoulder, brushing a strand of blue hair away from her temple. “I know so.”
Something shifted in Lynn then, the easing of the stiffness that had held her body rigid and emotions closely guarded. She curled against his side, leaning her head against his, knees folded practically into his lap and both arms curving around his body. It wasn’t the most proper of positions to find themselves in on the porch with the watchful eyes of three generations on them, but Reed was not about to raise his voice to air that concern.
“You’ll get the whole story from her sometime, Lynn.” Reed promised. “And look on the bright side— she thinks having THIS healer in the family is a good thing!”
Lynn’s only answer was to smack his chest, then curl back against him, a perfect fit he could hardly believe was possible.
Reed pushed back with his feet and set the swing swaying with a gentle motion, and the two shared a front row seat to watching the afternoon fall into a brilliant sunset.
It might not have had the best start, but to Reed this was a perfect day, ending with him at Lynn’s side, holding her as she processed the family secret and came to terms with what it meant to her. And he wouldn’t trade this moment shared with her for, well, anything.
no subject
Date: 2014-02-19 11:26 pm (UTC)<3
<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!