AN: Hi there! You may have read part of this story before from my old account, Alexa Twitch. Thanks for still being interested! For those of you who don't know, this is collection of stories, each chapter being 1,000 words in length. These stories will take place post Inkheart, and ignore Inkspell and Inkdeath. Check the Author's Notes at the beginning of the stories, because I'll let you know if the chapter is AU, set during a different time, or are part of a single story arc that will last several chapters. These will be mostly Meggie/Dustfinger, but may focus on other pairings. Thank you for reading!
Dustfinger liked to watch Farid play with fire. Even more so, though he'd never admit it, he liked to watch Meggie watch Farid play with fire. Her face lit up in a way that reminded him of Roxane's when he would make fire dance and grow flowers. Though there was something distinctly different about the young Silvertongue's face. Meggie's face held not only admiration but a cold, sneaking envy. An envy that only seemed to grow as she got older.
'I wish I could do that...' her face seemed to say.
Now, Farid was explaining how to twirl a baton when Dustfinger made his way into Elinor's garden. It was clear Meggie's fingers were more suited for sweeping a pen across paper than twirling a stick and she continued to drop it, much to the boy's annoyance. He heard their voices rise over the lawn, escalating from simple instructing to heated arguing.
"You're not doing it right!"
"Well maybe if you explained it better!"
"You're such a stupid girl!" The girl threw the baton at his apprentice, but he nimbly ducked it and took off towards the house. Smart move unless he wanted a pair of shoes flying at his face. Meggie stomped over to the fallen baton and picked it up, repeating the clumsy twirl. The more frustrated she became, the worse her attempts. He watched as the baton hit her arms, stomach, legs and his amusement faded with each strike. She'd be peppered with bruises if she kept it up. Finally, Dustfinger spoke up from his spot by the door.
"You're not going to get anywhere like that." he called.
Meggie whirled to glare at him. Her long blonde hair was pulled back into a... what did she call it?... a horse tail? It snapped like a whip around her face. The locks had gotten longer and more unruly in the years since their little adventure in southern Italy. Her eyes had gotten bluer in those years, he supposed, and sharper. As had her tongue. More than once had he seen her give Farid, or even her father, a piece of her ever thriving mind. He would have to tread lightly, much like he had to do in the forests around Capricorn's village to avoid agitating the snakes, lest this little Silvertongue prove to be equally biting.
"What?" Meggie asked, exasperated.
"If you allow your frustrations to get the better of you, you're only going to get hurt." Dustfinger looked pointedly at Meggie's right arm, where she'd been struck the most. Meggie flushed in aggravation and pushed some strands of hair back from her forehead.
"Explain it?" she asked.
"No." He replied shortly, moving forward and plucking the baton from her fingers like a flower from loose soil.
"Not while you're angry. Anger will get you no where in life, princess, certainly not in my favor."
"Who said I wanted to be in our favor?" she retorted haughtily.
"You asked me to help you, right?" She fell silent, and Dustfinger knew she was considering her options.
If she chose to take the baton back, he wouldn't fight her for it. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. He found his gaze lingering on her lashes. More than once he'd overheard her saying to her mother about Farid having prettier eyelashes than her. He was no expert on eyelashes, but he thought hers, dark and fanned against her cheeks, were pretty enough. She opened her eyes and held out her hand for the stick.
"Please, will you explain it to me?" she asked, he voice steadier.
Rather than hand her the baton, he stepped behind her, holding his arm out like hers. He flipped it through his fingers with a practiced roll before handing it to her. She tried again and he had to duck to avoid it when it flew towards his face. He heard her huff and he placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from moving after it. She took a few deep breaths, her shoulders rising and falling. Dustfinger could feel the material of her sweater rub against her skin and he retracted his hands, going to find the baton. His face flushed, despite the fact that it was late October and rather cold out, but he chalked it up to the heavy jacket he was wearing. Shrugging the jacket from his shoulders, the fire-eater moved to stand behind Meggie. Without warning he pushed the Silvertongue lightly between the shoulder blades.
"Hey!" she cried, stumbling forward.
"It's hard to focus on your hands when you're struggling to keep your balance. Put your feet closer together- not that close." Dustfinger corrected her stance. "Now start by rolling it between your first two fingers and your thumb."
Meggie flipped the baton clumsily through her fingers once, twice, nearly dropping it each time. Not allowing herself to become frustrated, she continued, ignoring when the baton flew out of her hand. Eventually, as the sundial indicated half past one, she managed a slow roll. Meggie grinned and Dustfinger couldn't stop the smile spreading across his face. She was so proud of herself and, he had to admit, he was proud of himself for helping her.
"Are you planning to leave again?" Meggie asked suddenly.
"Oh come now. You're still not sore about that trip to Rome I took last year?" Dustfinger chuckled. "I was only gone a few weeks!"
"You missed my 17th birthday." she mumbled, as if she were embarrassed at being upset.
"But if I remember correctly you liked that book I brought you alright. I'll try not to miss any more birthdays. Keep practicing." When the sun was low in the sky and they could tell it was late without the sundial, Meggie accomplished a complete twirl across her fingers. It wasn't as skilled as Dustfinger's but she beamed with pride. He couldn't stop the thought from worming its way into his mind and making him smile.
'I helped her do that...'