flight, 2 I need to rewrite this
Feb. 13th, 2003 07:37 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jamjarFor an instant Davy felt sheer joy at the thought of flight, before fear set in. His wings snapped back into place behind him, tucked in as tightly as they could get. "No, no I tried that, remember? Didn't work very well. You said it was a bad idea, even. You said if I ever tried to fly again, you'd rip my wings off personally."
Mark dismissed that with a gesture. "I was still recovering from the healer's bills. And you were stupid to try and fly by falling out of a tree. This time, I'll take you to a nice cliff. No branches for you get tangled up in."
"But you can't... I can't do anything, Mark. I can't float or anything, and you won't be able to lift me with your magic if I can't do it, and..."
"When I drop you, I won't pick you up anyway. Even if you hit the ground." Mark smiled, in a way that meant maybe he was lying and maybe he was telling the truth, but he was definitely saying what he thought would get the best reaction. "I know a good cliff, good thermals, isolated. Lots of sharp rocks at the bottom as an incentive."
"But I'll fall." Davy's voice dropped on the last word and he looked down, humiliated all over again, feeling stupid and magicless and crippled. "Mark, please..." he cut himself off, knowing that it wouldn't do any good to beg. "This isn't funny."
"No? That's strange, I'm having lots of fun. Dress in something windproof, with an open back. You'll need a lot of space to spread your wings."
~~~
"...you're not a hummingbird, so don't try and flap your wings like one. We're not built for that type of flight," Mark said, straightening his leather flying gloves. He gestured at the sky with one wing, while Davy crouched by his feet and looked miserable. "More like the seagulls, at least at first. Gliding is the most natural movement in the air for Drakthae. We don't hover like succubae or flutter like pixies. We're predators and we fly like one."
"Seagulls aren't predators," Davy said, looking up at Mark fear and hatred mixed with a healthy does of resignation. "They're scavengers, mostly. Omnivores."
Mark picked him up by his collar and turned him bodily to face the edge of the cliff. "Don't talk back to the man about to throw you off a cliff."
Davy reached behind him to grab onto Mark's wrist. "If I fall, you're coming with me."
But it was an awkward position and Mark had got loose from Davy's hold and was pinning his arms in front of him. "I wasn't this scared when I had my first flight," he said softly, close enough for his breath to tickle. "I never even thought about falling."
The position was close enough to a hug for Davy to lean back. "I don't have magic to help me fly, Mark. I'll hit the ground before I get the chance to spread my wings." He was still small enough to tuck his head under Mark's chin if he slouched a little, and he did so. And then, because there was still some anger underneath the fear and resignation, he added "Anyway, you were probably much younger than me on your first flight, and didn't have the brains to realise you could fall."
Mark's arms tightened around him a second, then relaxed. "You may be right," he admitted softly. "It probably will take you longer than you have to start gliding." Davy relaxed, wings loosening from their tightly clamped in position, flopping forwards in relief so he was only held up by Mark. "Just means I'll have to take you higher up to start with." And he stopped forwards and off the cliff before Davy had a chance to scream.
~~~
He should have done this when Davy was smaller, Mark thought as he propelled himself upwards. Davy was clinging tightly, wings tucked in as much as possible, looking thin and fragile, but weighing a surprising amount. This close, with Davy this frightened, there was no way for Mark to use magic for an extra lift. He hadn't realised how much he depended on the way magic eased flight. Even on his first flight, his fall had been slowed down just a little by the magic any winged fae had when they took to the air.
Any winged fae except for his brother. Mark frowned at the boy who clung onto him hard enough to leave bruises, eyes fixed on the ground as it got further and further away. For the first time he wondered if this wasn't the wisest thing to do. Even under normal circumstances, a significant proportion of drakthae died in their first flight, but really, there wasn't much else he could do. Davy had to learn to fly sooner or later, or Mark honestly might as well have cut off his wings, as deeply unpleasant as the thought was. Unless he learnt to use them, the wings were just another burden, another weakness weighing him down, and Mark couldn't afford to have Davy anymore vulnerable than he already was. He spent far too much time taking care of him as it was.
Not every fae adopted the sink-or-swim school of flight that the drakfae adopted. Some feather-winged tribes stuck levitation spells on their hatchlings, just enough to keep them from falling like stone. Not that that would do Davy any good, either. Sink or swim, fall or fly, and when he let go of Davy, live or die.
~~~
"Davy, when I let go, I won't catch you again," Mark said. He sounded a little out of breath, but mostly calm and Davy wondered if this was just Mark's way of killing him. Maybe Mark had grown sick of having Davy around. Maybe this was his way of seeing if Davy was actually capable of doing something, even without magic. Maybe Mark was just joking, and he'd drop Davy, let him fall til he almost hit the ground and pick him up at the last minute.
Davy could remember when he'd dreamed about flying. One of his earliest memories was watching Mark fly into the night, almost invisible against the darkening sky, and having to be held by his father to keep from following him off the cliff. Back then, before he realised how different he was and what that meant. Before he discovered that all the normal safety mechanisms the rest of the world had, like floating spells to keep you up and healing spells to fix you when you fell, just weren't available to him.
He twisted his head round and tried to meet Mark's face and was surprised to find Mark looking right at him. His expressions was definitely strained, but absolutely determined. "The important thing is not to panic." The wind almost stole the words from him before Davy could hear them, but he could just make them out enough for a burst of hysterical laughter to escape. Mark frowned. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have chosen an easier way," he snapped, wings still beating hard against the air. He saw sweating slightly, just enough for Davy to know Mark would slap a clean-and-tidy spell on himself as soon as Davy was out of range. "Spread your wings. Now, boy!" And Davy drew his wings out, a little awkwardly because Mark was still holding him, until they were fully extended. "Keep them steady," Mark said, and then he stopped beating his own and they were falling forwards.
No, not falling, gliding forwards. The movement was utterly smooth and seemingly effortless, totally unlike the work to get them that high in the first place. Davy kept his wings steady as Mark steered, holding him an arms length away, and shouting out instructions. It was beautiful, everything he dreamed flying was. High up and moving as if by magic, and his brother doing the same, watching over him as he actually did something normal drakthae did.
It took him a moment to realise Mark wasn't holding him, and a moment longer to panic, then he was tumbling towards the ground, his wings, which had seem so strong and so large a moment ago, tiny and weak. He could hear Mark yelling something at him, but he couldn't make out the words, and then Mark was right next to him, close enough for Davy to see something in his face that was almost fear- except it was Mark, and he had no idea what Mark looked like when he was afraid. He wanted to ask Mark why he wasn't picking him up, if he was really going to let him fall, but he couldn't get enough air to breathe, let alone speak.
Mark was yelling instructions and yes, that was definitely fear, or maybe even worry. Davy had a moment to think "he does love me?" and "when I die you'll be sorry," before he somehow managed to straighten his wings and keep them out.
It actually took Mark a second longer to stop his downwards movement and catch up with Davy. He came back up, with a look of naked relief on his face. The wind snatched every second word from him, but Davy could just make out what he was shouting. "Mother said I almost hit the ground on my first flight," he said, smoothing out to something like his normal superior attitude. "You've still got at least 20 meters to go. What were you so worried about? Now, remember what I said about turning..."
Mark dismissed that with a gesture. "I was still recovering from the healer's bills. And you were stupid to try and fly by falling out of a tree. This time, I'll take you to a nice cliff. No branches for you get tangled up in."
"But you can't... I can't do anything, Mark. I can't float or anything, and you won't be able to lift me with your magic if I can't do it, and..."
"When I drop you, I won't pick you up anyway. Even if you hit the ground." Mark smiled, in a way that meant maybe he was lying and maybe he was telling the truth, but he was definitely saying what he thought would get the best reaction. "I know a good cliff, good thermals, isolated. Lots of sharp rocks at the bottom as an incentive."
"But I'll fall." Davy's voice dropped on the last word and he looked down, humiliated all over again, feeling stupid and magicless and crippled. "Mark, please..." he cut himself off, knowing that it wouldn't do any good to beg. "This isn't funny."
"No? That's strange, I'm having lots of fun. Dress in something windproof, with an open back. You'll need a lot of space to spread your wings."
~~~
"...you're not a hummingbird, so don't try and flap your wings like one. We're not built for that type of flight," Mark said, straightening his leather flying gloves. He gestured at the sky with one wing, while Davy crouched by his feet and looked miserable. "More like the seagulls, at least at first. Gliding is the most natural movement in the air for Drakthae. We don't hover like succubae or flutter like pixies. We're predators and we fly like one."
"Seagulls aren't predators," Davy said, looking up at Mark fear and hatred mixed with a healthy does of resignation. "They're scavengers, mostly. Omnivores."
Mark picked him up by his collar and turned him bodily to face the edge of the cliff. "Don't talk back to the man about to throw you off a cliff."
Davy reached behind him to grab onto Mark's wrist. "If I fall, you're coming with me."
But it was an awkward position and Mark had got loose from Davy's hold and was pinning his arms in front of him. "I wasn't this scared when I had my first flight," he said softly, close enough for his breath to tickle. "I never even thought about falling."
The position was close enough to a hug for Davy to lean back. "I don't have magic to help me fly, Mark. I'll hit the ground before I get the chance to spread my wings." He was still small enough to tuck his head under Mark's chin if he slouched a little, and he did so. And then, because there was still some anger underneath the fear and resignation, he added "Anyway, you were probably much younger than me on your first flight, and didn't have the brains to realise you could fall."
Mark's arms tightened around him a second, then relaxed. "You may be right," he admitted softly. "It probably will take you longer than you have to start gliding." Davy relaxed, wings loosening from their tightly clamped in position, flopping forwards in relief so he was only held up by Mark. "Just means I'll have to take you higher up to start with." And he stopped forwards and off the cliff before Davy had a chance to scream.
~~~
He should have done this when Davy was smaller, Mark thought as he propelled himself upwards. Davy was clinging tightly, wings tucked in as much as possible, looking thin and fragile, but weighing a surprising amount. This close, with Davy this frightened, there was no way for Mark to use magic for an extra lift. He hadn't realised how much he depended on the way magic eased flight. Even on his first flight, his fall had been slowed down just a little by the magic any winged fae had when they took to the air.
Any winged fae except for his brother. Mark frowned at the boy who clung onto him hard enough to leave bruises, eyes fixed on the ground as it got further and further away. For the first time he wondered if this wasn't the wisest thing to do. Even under normal circumstances, a significant proportion of drakthae died in their first flight, but really, there wasn't much else he could do. Davy had to learn to fly sooner or later, or Mark honestly might as well have cut off his wings, as deeply unpleasant as the thought was. Unless he learnt to use them, the wings were just another burden, another weakness weighing him down, and Mark couldn't afford to have Davy anymore vulnerable than he already was. He spent far too much time taking care of him as it was.
Not every fae adopted the sink-or-swim school of flight that the drakfae adopted. Some feather-winged tribes stuck levitation spells on their hatchlings, just enough to keep them from falling like stone. Not that that would do Davy any good, either. Sink or swim, fall or fly, and when he let go of Davy, live or die.
~~~
"Davy, when I let go, I won't catch you again," Mark said. He sounded a little out of breath, but mostly calm and Davy wondered if this was just Mark's way of killing him. Maybe Mark had grown sick of having Davy around. Maybe this was his way of seeing if Davy was actually capable of doing something, even without magic. Maybe Mark was just joking, and he'd drop Davy, let him fall til he almost hit the ground and pick him up at the last minute.
Davy could remember when he'd dreamed about flying. One of his earliest memories was watching Mark fly into the night, almost invisible against the darkening sky, and having to be held by his father to keep from following him off the cliff. Back then, before he realised how different he was and what that meant. Before he discovered that all the normal safety mechanisms the rest of the world had, like floating spells to keep you up and healing spells to fix you when you fell, just weren't available to him.
He twisted his head round and tried to meet Mark's face and was surprised to find Mark looking right at him. His expressions was definitely strained, but absolutely determined. "The important thing is not to panic." The wind almost stole the words from him before Davy could hear them, but he could just make them out enough for a burst of hysterical laughter to escape. Mark frowned. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have chosen an easier way," he snapped, wings still beating hard against the air. He saw sweating slightly, just enough for Davy to know Mark would slap a clean-and-tidy spell on himself as soon as Davy was out of range. "Spread your wings. Now, boy!" And Davy drew his wings out, a little awkwardly because Mark was still holding him, until they were fully extended. "Keep them steady," Mark said, and then he stopped beating his own and they were falling forwards.
No, not falling, gliding forwards. The movement was utterly smooth and seemingly effortless, totally unlike the work to get them that high in the first place. Davy kept his wings steady as Mark steered, holding him an arms length away, and shouting out instructions. It was beautiful, everything he dreamed flying was. High up and moving as if by magic, and his brother doing the same, watching over him as he actually did something normal drakthae did.
It took him a moment to realise Mark wasn't holding him, and a moment longer to panic, then he was tumbling towards the ground, his wings, which had seem so strong and so large a moment ago, tiny and weak. He could hear Mark yelling something at him, but he couldn't make out the words, and then Mark was right next to him, close enough for Davy to see something in his face that was almost fear- except it was Mark, and he had no idea what Mark looked like when he was afraid. He wanted to ask Mark why he wasn't picking him up, if he was really going to let him fall, but he couldn't get enough air to breathe, let alone speak.
Mark was yelling instructions and yes, that was definitely fear, or maybe even worry. Davy had a moment to think "he does love me?" and "when I die you'll be sorry," before he somehow managed to straighten his wings and keep them out.
It actually took Mark a second longer to stop his downwards movement and catch up with Davy. He came back up, with a look of naked relief on his face. The wind snatched every second word from him, but Davy could just make out what he was shouting. "Mother said I almost hit the ground on my first flight," he said, smoothing out to something like his normal superior attitude. "You've still got at least 20 meters to go. What were you so worried about? Now, remember what I said about turning..."
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Date: 2003-02-13 01:45 pm (UTC)Would you like me to .html them, to put on the glamourlust stories and art section? They'd need to be beta'd, or at least for me to print them out and red pen edit them first.