weylewey: (forgotten)
[personal profile] weylewey
Disclaimer: I don’t own Magic Knight Rayearth or any of the characters portrayed in it. They belong to CLAMP, and are being used for 'creative purposes' only, as allowed. (see the legal information on clamp-net.com) All hail CLAMP! ^^

Summary: Clef-centric short reflection fic written for 31 days, prompt = 'long lost fables' (1st Feb 2006)

“Would you like some tea?”

“Yes, please.” Clef settled himself further into the overstuffed armchair, trying not to feel uncomfortable in the house of a complete stranger.

Worse, a stranger who was almost certainly older than him.

The woman poured out two cups of the steaming liquid gracefully, and Clef tried not to fidget in his seat, watching her. She looked about thirty, maybe thirty-five, as far as these things went in Cephiro – but the eyes gave her away, laughing gently at him and his discomfort, far too deep, far too clear to be ‘natural’. Besides, in the letters they’d exchanged, she’d mentioned things even he barely remembered. It might not be polite to reveal a lady’s age, but the lady herself could hint at it all she wanted.

“I’ll find us some biscuits to go with this. Help yourself to sugar, if you wish.” She stood, as gracefully as she had poured the tea, and Clef accepted the steaming cup before she disappeared down the hallway of her home, carefully making enough noise that he could track her.

Blinking, Clef stared after her for a moment, then sighed and tried to relax into the chair. It shouldn’t be this hard! Even in these weird civilian clothes, and his new form… he had a letter of invitation in his pocket, he had a purpose here! SO why did he feel so out of place?

…fine, so the letter was addressed to ‘the scholar Kagi’ and not himself, but, still… he’d travelled incognito before.

Centuries ago.

…That was probably the last time he’d taken this form, actually. He’d forgotten how uncomfortable long leg could make things…

Tempted to hit himself over the head with his cup, he took a sip from it instead, forcing his shoulders to relax again. If this worked, it would be more than worth any discomfort he went through. Collecting the old stories and fairy tales of Cephiro… who’d have thought it could be a job for the Master Mage, of all people? But back when the old legends began coming true, he’d promised himself that he would sit down when it was all over and go through the old fables, tales, ballads, and collect them together. Who knows when they might be useful…

He hadn’t reckoned on it being this big a job, though he probably should have. Most of them hadn’t been written down anywhere, at least, not in the past millennia. What books there had been in the library were virtually unreadable, crumbling, and the writing looked more like a decorative scribbling than any kind of letters. Which brought him back to the current task – searching out anyone who remembered something, and getting it all written down. Some of the stories were common enough, of course, but even the tale of the pillar’s sacrifice and the truth of the Knights had been well known once, told to children so they would properly respect the one providing for them.

His hostess returned, carrying a plate piled with fresh smelling cookies, and this time Clef returned her smile.

“Shall we begin?”

((note - by biscuits, I mean what you would call cookies in the USA, I think. XD))
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