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littleredroseonthevalley · 6 years

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An Opera on Separation - Chapter 15

Prologue | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 | CH. 15 | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 |

Summary: It is the end of term for the teachers at Lydia Child. Zig has a special surprise for Emily. An undesirable presence looms the Park Avenue apartment, though. How Queenie and Nathan will deal with the newcomer?

Rating: T - Content not suitable for children. Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 2028

Notes: A Christmas chapter to give some relief (and to mock, as in Cape Town not only is cold, but it’s also raining like nobody’s business) for my dearest Northern Hemisphere readers.

Reblog, please. Enjoy.

Santa’s Coming For Us

“And we’re done!” Marietta shut her notebook, signalling the end of the arduous meeting. “Congratulations, everyone, for this term. Now, let us trade gifts and dig onto that pizza. I swear to God, it’s been singing my name for the last hour.”

The teachers clapped animatedly, relieved for their two-week break, and then they served themselves each a piece of pizza from the spread by one side of the room.

Emily had spent most of the evening next to the elderly Mr. Smith, discussing his classes, programs and students, in preparation for his retirement at the end of the school year. As for Zig, he was at the opposite end of the room, fidgeting with his hands and the edges of his shirt in a clear display of nerves.

“Someone should talk with Mr. Ortega.” Mr. Smith noted, with a grave note of concern. “Look at the boy! He’s pale as a sheet!”

Emily followed his line of sight and Zig did look like if he was about to pass out at any minute. She excused herself from the elderly teacher and walked over to the Latino man.

“Hey.” She says. “Are you okay? You look ill.”

He laughed off-tone. “Me? Ill? Nope! Not at all! I feel as healthy as a horse!”

“Are you sure?” The woman presses on.

“Ms. Harper!” Marietta calls off behind her. “Take your seat, we’ll have our Secret Santa now!”

“In a moment, ma’am.” The redhead nodded.

She gave the young man a last appraising look and walked back to her chair with the rest of the English department.

“Now, since we’re all ready, we should begin.” Ms. Jones announces. “Ms. Harper, as you seem so eager, why don’t you begin?”

Blushing from being singled out, she coughs a little to prep her voice and starts the guessing game: “My Secret Santa…”

A few minutes in and the Secret Santa was in full swing, with petty trinkets, hugs and wishes for a great holiday season being traded around the room between the lecturers.

Somewhere around the middle of it, Zig had been drawn by a young Social Studies teacher who had gifted him a navy blue tie, on the fashion of those he uses every day for work.

He thanked the girl politely, albeit rather coldly, and loosened the one he was wearing to change to the one he was given.

Afterwards, the man stands up once more and clear his throat: “Er… my Secret Santa is a girl. She has red hair and is a little on the short side. She doesn’t like to be told that, but it’s the truth. She arrived to Lydia Child only this year, and it was a great surprise to me. I’ve known and respected her for so long, but it was just as long the last time I’d met her.

“The first time she ever taught was back in August, and you could see the nervousness on her eyes. I’d wager she thought the students were going to eat her.” The small joke elicit a few laughs from the audience. “But she raised above all the limitations, like we all did, and now she’s one of the most well-liked teachers in the school, and I didn’t doubt for a single minute that she would.

“I mean, y’all know, she has such a sunny disposition that only the most dedicated can manage to stay sour near her. It’s so annoying that you just can’t help to have your spirits lifted. And she’s dedicated, too! You had to see her, struggling with some math book just so she can help cover a subject I don’t even think she’s supposed to teach.

Zig sighed, a smile on his face. “If it isn’t clear enough, my Secret Santa is Emily Harper.”

Emily wiped a few tears off her eyes and ran to hug the man.

“No need to cry.” He whispers on her ear, good-humoured.

“Don’t say all those pretty things about me and ask me not to cry!” She whispers back.

He chuckled. “C’mon, you didn’t even see your present yet.”

She let him go begrudgingly. He beamed at her and handed a small, neatly packed gift. “Careful opening it. It’s fragile.”

The redhead nodded and opened slowly and carefully the shining wrapping paper. It was a copy of the book ‘Out of Africa’, by Karen Blixen.

“Zig, I…” She started to say, but was cut off by him.

“Open it.” The Latino asked of her.

The young woman obeyed, and at the first page another gasp. It was a quote and a signature.

“Le temps nous prive de beaucoup de biens précieux, et, pour finir, il nous prive de tout.

K. Blixen

København, January 15th, 1960”

“I remember you have a collection of signed copies, and that Out of Africa was one of your favourite books.” He says, with a mischievous grin. “So, I called a few people and found a used books store that had that one in stock. It’s from one of the last public appearances by Karen Blixen. It seems that the last owner of this copy knew somebody who knew somebody who scored it for him.”

Emily could do nothing but cry and hug Zig tightly.

While the party was in full swing at Lydia Child, a certain commercial airplane landed in Newark.

Inside, sat a woman in her late 60’s who was currently enjoying a flute of champagne. Her eyes were a chilly, sterile blue, framed by some age markers of someone who did not bother to hide them.

She was rather tall, especially for her age, and combined with the full, puffy blond mane on her head gave her the imposing and sophisticated look of a high-society lady.

A simple diamond necklace, the only piece of jewellery she carried, adorned her black dress. Beige pantyhose and a sensible, also black, heel covered her lean legs.

After landing and baggage reclaim, she did a beeline to the glass doors of the airport, where a fancy, yet non-descript car waited patiently for her.

“You know where we’re going.” She told the driver. “Step on it.”

A man who sat next to her on the backseat chuckled. “You’ll never change, will you, Lois?”

“What do you mean?” She demands.

“You say ‘efficient communication’, but it’s actually you being brash, demanding and indifferent.” He smirks. “Have you ever said thank you in your life?”

Lois laughs as if it was one big joke. “You’re one to tell.”

“Birds of the same feather, I suppose.” He considered. “What are you doing here, anyways?”

“I thought it was pretty obvious.” She said, turning on her cell phone.

The man smirks. “Indeed, let me rephrase. What do you expect to achieve with it?”

“I expect to recover what’s mine. And perhaps knocking some sense into that stupid, empty head.”

Sometime around 10:00 PM, Emily finally got to the entrance door of the Sterlings’ apartment, feeling ready for a good night’s sleep.

The sight she encounter at the kitchen, however, wasn’t very conductive to resting.

“Surprise!” Queenie and Nathan shout, surprising the young redhead. The two of them wore party hats and the whole room was dripping with tacky ‘happy birthday’ décor.

“I’m sorry about the ‘Feliz Cumpleaños’ theme. The store had no ‘Congratulations on your first half-versary at the job’ so we had to improvise.” Queenie said with a laughter.

“But the cake’s legit.” Nathan presented the dessert, the phrase ‘#1 Teach’ was frosted on it. “Done it myself, dark chocolate and coffee beans, hope you like it!”

“Oh my God, this is amazing! Thank you so much!” The youngest beamed and hugged her mother. “And, yeah, Nathan, I love chocolate and coffee beans. It was the cake you baked me for my birthday between Junior and Senior years.”

He laughs, sheepish. “I’m pretty sure I asked the maid to order me one, but I’m glad you liked it then and I’m glad you like it now.”

“Come on, let’s dig in!” Queenie picks up a plate and a knife, ready to carve the cake into shreds.

“No, wait. Let me at least freshen up.” Emily asks. “I’ve been on this dress all day long and I could use a pair of slippers.”

“Sure, honey. I’ll accompany you.” The mother smiled kindly and then pointed the knife at the man. “Do not dare to eat the cake before we’re back.”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, sure, I’ll eat three kilograms of cake while you’re changing. I’ll even lick the plate clean.”

The older woman shot him a dirty look, but followed her daughter away with no further words. Nathan looked over to the decorated table and saw that Emily had forgotten to take her book bag back to her room.

He picked it up and he was going to take it there for her when a particular volume called upon his attention. It was an old, battered copy of ‘Out of Africa’. The blond took the book out to check it out in close quarters.

It was not a library issue, certainly, and it was not any of his, either. He did not remember any book boxes when Emily and Queenie moved in, so it must be a new purchase.

Opening the volume, he sees the Karen Blixen signature and wonder whether the bookseller was a moron or if Emily had the pretty penny to afford such a luxury.

It was when a small envelope falls out from the book pages. It was, by itself, nothing special, as it was white and only addressed to Emily in scrawny cursive.

Nathan checks the hallway to see if there was anyone coming. Having the coast clear, he opens the stationary.

What he reads puts him on a foul mood. It was a love letter, from Zig to Emily, asking for her forgiveness for his brash behaviour their last encounter and reiterating his intent. He was probably who gave Emily the book, in fact.

Nathan had to admit, the baboon had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Considering the letter was sealed when he found it, he assumes Emily had not found it yet, and therefore he could make it disappear. The two women were yet to emerge from the bedroom; they’d be none the wiser.

It was his first instinct, the blond had to admit. But something contained his hand, a foggy thought he could not make much sense of it, a feeling it would bring only misery if he went on with it.

He decided to put the letter back where he found it.

“Oh, there’s where I left it!” Emily exclaims, entering the kitchen.

“I was about to take it to your room.” The man handed her the bag. “What’s with the vintage copy?”

“Zig gave it to me tonight. I used to collect signed copies, and Out of Africa is one of my favourite books.” She beamed, happy.

“You used to? What happened?” The blond wondered out loud.

The redhead woman sighed. “You kept my books after we divorced.”

“No, I did not.” He shook his head. “The only books we had at home were on my study, and those were mine.”

“Do you remember the shelves by the guest room, on the third floor?” She asks, and he nods his affirmative. “Those were my collection.”

An icy chill ran through the man’s spine. He let Ashley-Amber throw them all away while she was ‘remodelling’ the house. He didn’t even think of checking what was on that particular set of shelves, he just assumed that were assorted titles of no importance other than decorative value, like every other at his parents’ houses.

Nathan had to hand it to himself; he really screwed up with Emily’s life. So much so, he should call the Guinness Book and check if they keep tally of those. He could be sitting on a world record.

Before he could say anything else, they hear a noise at the entrance door. Not dwelling much about it, them both walked out to the living room to check on it.

“Mother!” Nathan exclaims.

Standing by the doorway, Lois Sterling smirks, dangerously. “I am back.”

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An Opera on Separation - Masterlist

Taglist: @alicars; @boneandfur; @choicesfannatalie; @diamond-dreamland; @emerald-bijou; @kennaxval; @liam-rhys; @liamxs-world; @lizeboredom; @mfackenthal; @moodygrip; @mrsdrakewalkerblog; @radiantrosemary; @topsyturvy-dream

#an opera on separation #the junior #zigmund ortega #nathan sterling

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ankhlesbian · 6 years

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FE Femslash Week 2018: Day 3

Prompt: Shy / Butterfly

Fandom: Fire Emblem: Awakening

Ship: Sully/Sumia

Title: Meet Cute

AO3 Link: Here

Sumia's day starts with a broken alarm clock and all the joys of running late, but it improves exponentially when an attractive new face shows up in the diner she works at. Also, there's horses.

Sumia’s day is off to a terrible start. Her 4 am alarm doesn’t go off, and it’s only thanks to a year of getting up this early that she wakes up only half an hour late. Of course, that still means she has negative time to spare. She crams her feet into her riding boots and brushes her teeth in the car, thankful that she always packs her waitress uniform in advance.

She pulls into Shepherd’s Farm only seconds before Belfire would’ve alerted the entire neighborhood to her imminent starvation. If you’re even a minute late to feeding her, she kicks up a storm like no other. The Shepherds have offered more than once to take over morning feeding, but Sumia already feels guilty that they’re letting Belfire board here basically free of charge. She doesn’t have it in her to accept any more favors, no matter how nice Phila and Emmeryn are.

There’s no time for a morning walk or ride, so Bel will just have to make do until this afternoon when Sumia actually has a free moment. Usually Bel gets her exercise from the lessons Phila leads in the afternoon, with Bel as one of the horses the riders can use. That’s officially why they don’t charge her anything for staying, but Sumia knows that rightfully she should still owe something. There aren’t lessons every day, including today. A farrier is scheduled to come by this afternoon, so all lessons were cancelled. Even though Emmeryn and Phila are already rich and retired, Sumia swears to pay them back someday.

Bel nickers her thanks as Sumia fills up her feed bucket. She pats the horse on her neck, combing her fingers through her mane. It would look nice in braids, but she hasn’t had the time lately. Between two jobs and her night classes at the community college, she’s lucky she has the time to see Bel at all during the week. She fits in a few more pats and some kisses before she has to return the dirty bucket and get going, waving at Phila as she sprints out the barn doors.

Her car screeches into the diner parking lot five minutes before opening. She grabs her uniform and scrambles inside to clock-in and change, cursing the shirt for being buttoned and her hair for being tangled. Everything is smoothed out in time for her to put a smile on her face and begin making her rounds to the customers.

The regulars are already seated, poring over the daily paper or tapping away at phones.

“Mornin’ Libra,” she calls brightly, setting down her tray lined with eight empty mugs and filling one with steaming coffee. Libra takes it off with a cool nod, too engrossed in the paper to say anything. She scoops the tray back up, balancing it with one hand and holding the coffee pot with the other.

She twirls around and starts to head to the next booth when suddenly she feels her foot catch on the ground. Not again! That’s the fifth time this month! Her future flashes before her. An angry boss, wasted coffee, broken mugs, and another stained uniform. She closes her eyes with a whimper, braced for the inevitable.

“Woah there,” Mumbles an unfamiliar voice into her ear, an arm wrapping around her waist to steady her. Her eyes fly open to meet the gaze of an unfamiliar woman, a tall woman, with red eyes and redder hair. It feels like there’s a thousand butterflies trying to escape from her stomach. Her face flushes and she tries to say something, but words won’t come out. There’s an awkward pause, and the brows in front of her furrow with concern.

“You alright there?” Sumia finally wrangles back control of her body and jerks away, bowing profusely.

“Yes! Thank you very much!” It shouldn’t be possible for there to be a stranger in a town with a population as small as this one’s, yet she’s sure she’d remember someone as stunning as this. The stranger rubs the back of her head sheepishly.

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just here for some grub. Can I, uh, seat myself?” Sometimes truckers stop by on their way through, but she doesn’t quite give off that sort of vibe. Sumia puts her work smile back on, though she can’t help it if it’s far more genuine than her previous one.

“Of course! I’ll be right with you!” Unfortunately, as usual, the morning rush is so busy that she can’t spare the time to do anything more than take the woman’s order (a black coffee and an extra large breakfast hash) professionally. When things finally settle down, the woman’s already gone, receipt and cash sitting beside neatly stacked dirty dishes. There’s a note scrawled at the bottom of the receipt in messy handwriting.

“Name’s Sully. Hope to see you around :)”

And she left a big tip. Sumia’s done for.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

She’s free after the lunch crowd packs up, and she changes back into her farm clothes. Loose dusty jeans, her riding boots, and a plaid long-sleeved shirt. She’s feeling leagues better than she did this morning, so she ties her hair into braided pigtails and plops on her favorite slightly stupid looking cowboy hat.

The barn’s pretty empty when Sumia arrives. Phila must’ve let everyone out so they wouldn’t bother the farrier. Aurora, Cordelia’s gentle thoroughbred, is already tied up in the hallway of the barn. It’d be a pain for the farrier to chase down horses in the pasture, not to mention how easily they could run away if they got spooked, so the patients get to be tied up inside for their appointments.

Out of respect for the farrier, Sumia decides to muck the pastures first instead of the stalls. Any farrier worth their salt should already be immune to the smell of horses, but that doesn’t mean they want a wheelbarrow full of manure right under their nose.

She heads out, humming a jaunty tune. Bel just so happens to be in the first pasture, and she trots up to greet her, neighing all the way. Sumia smiles and caresses her briefly, but work comes first. If she hurries, she can finish early enough to take Bel for a walk around the trails. She probably shouldn’t ride her right after she gets her new shoes put on, but a nice walk in the crisp fall air should be fine.

None of the horses in the other pastures are as happy to see her as Bel, but she still makes sure to give them all a good pat as she goes. If she had more time, she’d be out here with them all day, every day. For now, she’s just glad she remembers their names.

After taking as long as she dares with the pastures, she dumps the manure into its pit and heads inside the barn through the doors opposite where the farrier is set up. They’re bent over a hoof, not facing her, decked out in overalls with a thick farrier’s apron tied around their waist. Sumia forces herself to mind her business, though this farrier seems to have a different build than the last one she remembers seeing.

She’s sweaty and smells worse than the horses when she finishes. Cursed stagnant barn air. She parks the empty wheelbarrow back outside the barn and leans against it with a sigh, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm. The sun isn’t quite set, and she has an hour before her animal science class starts. She could head home and take an extra luxurious shower before grabbing dinner…. Or she could walk Bel and take an extremely quick shower before grabbing an extremely quick dinner. It isn’t even a contest.

She heads down to Bel’s pasture and gently lifts up a front hoof to inspect the new shoes. The work is impeccable, each nail in the right place and the shoe itself shaped perfectly.

“That one yours?” It’s a familiar voice, but she can’t place it. She looks up to see the farrier, sporting a shock of red hair.

“Sully!” she blurts. The farrier furrows her brows. Yup, that’s Sully.

“Do I know you?” Sumia takes off her hat and tugs at one of her pigtails.

“I waited at your table this morning at the diner. Couldn’t come down here with my hair like that, though.” Sully’s eyes light up with recognition.

“I never did catch your name,” she says slyly, leaning on the fence separating the two of them. Sumia holds out a hand with a smile.

“Sumia.” Sully shakes it. Her hands are calloused and warm. Definitely a farrier.

“I hope Belfire was good for you.” She offers. Said horse neighs, aware of her name being said. Sully waves a hand dismissively.

“Like a dream. She’s got a beautiful coat on her, too.” Sumia can’t help but beam at the praise.

“Don’t compliment her too much. Her ego’s big enough already.” Sully chuckles, running her eyes over the horse.

“She definitely looks like one of them stuck up kinds.” Bel whinnies in protest. Sully’s awfully tall, so Sumia steps onto the bottom rail of the fence to even things out. It’s still not enough. Maybe Sumia’s just short. Sully looks amused, still easily looking down on her.

“Is this your first time in town?” She can’t keep the hopeful edge from her voice. If the stars are in her favor, it’ll be her first but not her last. Sully nods.

“First day on the new job. I just finished moving in yesterday.” It seems odd for a farrier to just up and move to a nowhere place like this, but Sumia’s heard rumors that Olympians like to keep their leisure and hunt horses at estates not thirty minutes down the road from this place. Phila used to be one, and never actively denied the rumors, so there must be more truth to them than she thought.

“Do you have any horses of your own?” A very important question if she wants a future with Sully. Sully’s face brightens like a thousand watt bulb.

“I sure do. His name’s Cain. Buckskin quarter horse, only a couple years old.” Sumia whistles appreciatively.

“Where’re you keeping him?” Sully looks a little self-conscious.

“My own place, actually. He’s been with my family since birth, and the whole lot of use are blacksmiths, so the noise from the forge shouldn’t bother him a bit.” It’s all Sumia could ever want in a girlfriend. But, she reminds herself firmly, she’s getting ahead of herself.

“Are they from anywhere near here?” Sully shakes her head.

“Two states over.”

“Oh, wow. It must be awfully lonely being up here along so suddenly.” Sully shrugs a little, gaze sliding sideways.

“Well, I’ve already met one friendly townsfolk.”

“I’m glad I managed to make a good impression. I was a bit worried after almost spilling coffee on you, and all that.” She laughs awkwardly. Sully’s gaze turns back to Sumia, mouth quirking up at the corner.

“Actually, I was talking about Phila. Two then, if we count you.” Sumia pouts a little and resists the urge to shove at Sully.

“Well, I was going to offer to show you around,” she sighs dramatically. “But I suppose if my help isn’t wanted….”

“I said we can count you!” Sumia drops the act with a giggle.

“I know a trail that passes through a field with the most beautiful wildflowers you’ve ever seen. We should ride out there sometime.”

“I’d love to, but I am a little swamped with work this first week. But we could do dinner. Uh, should do dinner.” Sully’s face is beginning to match her hair. Sumia hides a smile as she pulls out her phone.

“My schedule’s a bit wonky, but I’d love to. There’s plenty of local little places around here.” Sully goes to take her phone, but pauses, face going even redder.

“Just so we’re clear, I mean as like, a date.” A brief pause. “I like girls.” Sumia can’t help but laugh at her.

“I do too,” she says shyly, looking up at Sully with bright eyes. Sully clears her throat awkwardly as she takes Sumia’s phone and types in her number.

“That’s, that’s great. I’m usually a lot slicker than this, just so you know.”

“I believe you,” placates Sumia. She doesn’t. Bel, getting impatient for her promised walk, noses at her back, almost sending her teetering off the fence.

“Ah, well, duty calls.” She kind of wants to ask Sully to come with them, but she is still on a tight schedule. She should limit distractions, especially ones as hot as Sully.

“I’ll see you around, then?” Sumia nods, hopping off the fence and saying her goodbyes before heading out the pasture gates and toward the cross-country trails.

She waits until she’s a good distance into the woods before she pauses, squealing and jumping with joy, just a little bit. She plucks a flower from the side of the trail and picks the petals off, one by one. Even the flowers agree.

For the first time in a while, she’s actually looking forward to tomorrow.

#fefemslashweek #sully (fe)#sumia (fe)#sumisully #sully/sumia #sumia/sully #horse girlfriends #it writes

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