Title: Ivory and Onyx
Series: Could fit into Changes of the Wind, but I don't imagine it that way.
Author: Carmarthen (caerfyrddin @ gmail.com)
Fandom/Pairing: Tamora Pierce's Tortall novels; could be read as Buri/Thayet
Disclaimer: The characters belong to the wonderful Tamora Pierce. Not me. No profit is being made and no disrespect to characters or author is intended.
Rating: PG for a teensy underage peck.
Spoilers: Spoilers for Lioness Rampant. Set post-LR but looking back on pre-LR days.
Summary: Buri remembers a moment with Thayet from the days before Kalasin's suicide.
Warnings: This ficlet could be read as slashy. It also contains one tiny, basically platonic kiss between two teenage girls aged somewhere between 12 and 14. It is in no way porn, and can be read entirely as friendship, if you so choose; remember, in many cultures friends do kiss each other. Also, it's told in first/second person (Buri talking to Thayet, who may or may not be there). If you are allergic to first or second person stories...well, I am not responsible if you don't like this. If you object to any of these things, you are warned. If you keep reading, knowing you'll hate it, it's not my fault. Before you flame a random stranger, stop and think -- you could be doing something much more productive, like reading something you like.
Archive: Yes to Piercings (http://u01wmd.supanet.com/piercings) and my personal site (http://thewritegirls.populli.net/carmarthen), others ask.
Notes: It was an image I had, of Thayet and Buri as teenagers. I know Thayet is Alanna's age and Buri is younger; for the purpose of this fic I'm assuming there's only a year or two between them. Buri seemed more mature to me than Thayet in Lioness Rampant anyway.
GRATUITOUS PLUG: If you like Tamora Pierce slash, please, please, please go join the tortallslash list at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/tortallslash. More members --> discussion --> fic = A Good Thing.

Many thanks to Lora of Word-Painting for her useful comments and to Chris F. for encouragement

Ivory and Onyx

Do you remember how we used to play? You, the noble princess, held captive by the cruel warlord -- even then you guessed something of your father's flaws -- and I, your loyal prince? You batted your pretty eyelashes at my brother Pathom until he grudgingly consented to play your games, and a fine, swaggering warlord he made, too.

And even then, I could deny you nothing, although I grumbled a bit at your childish games. Oh, I was a year younger than you, but I felt older. I had seen my people enslaved, their spirits crushed and caged, but Kalasin still kept you sheltered then, safe in your tower of ivory and gold. You were surrounded by silks and spices, with servants to obey your every whim, servants carefully picked to be loyal to Kalasin and not jin Wilima. And there was Pathom to growl at you and play the bashful swain, and I to play your games and put spiders outside for you when you were too soft-hearted to crush them.

I hated the spiders, but I did it for you.

Things were different in those days; we were removed from the turmoil of the countryside, safe in Kalasin's dream for you. You were girlishly, brightly happy, and I smiled and indulged you. Pathom grew away from us, spending more time with my mother, training. I know now that even then, Kalasin planned, and my mother with her. She did not tell me because she meant me to protect you after she and Pathom were gone.

She knew me, my mother.

I remember how one day when we played at warlord and princess, Pathom and I fencing with branches from the flowering tree outside your window, he tripped over a stool and cut himself. He swore at me and apologized to you, but you just giggled at his blush and told him to go bandage himself up. While he did, you sauntered over to me and draped yourself gracefully in my arms. I dropped my branch in surprise, scattering golden petals over the blue silk pillows of your couch and you said, "Kiss me, my prince," and winked at me.

So I did, a quick, nervous brush of mouths, awkward as butterflies colliding. I had never kissed anyone before and I felt a queer fluttering in my stomach.

You smiled at me and tossed your hair over your shoulder and then you twined your arms around my neck and said, "Don't ever leave me, Buri."

You were a goddess of ivory and onyx and I drowned in your eyes.


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