lake-girl

[lake-girl]

I wasn’t sold on the amnesia plotline UNTIL the part where Laurence, desperate to figure out if Emily is his daughter, steels himself to straight-up ask Temeraire, who not only answers him but keeps chattering away, matter-of-factly telling him about his relationship with Roland and how women kept rejecting his marriage proposals while all Laurence can do is stare in horror. 

And THEN Temeraire casually spills the beans on Laurence’s treason, crushing his captain’s soul, and Temeraire’s first reaction is just be put out by the whole hassle: “It is very inconvenient that you should recall nothing at all.”

Tell me your favorite Temeraire moments.

[lake-girl]

For me, it was Tolkien -- it wasn’t until college that I finally had the words and perspective to explain why his world felt cold and foreign in a way that my guy friends couldn’t seem to fathom. 

It’s like this…

You’re fourteen and you’re reading Larry Niven’s “The Protector” because it’s your father’s favorite book and you like your father and you think he has good taste and the creature on the cover of the book looks interesting and you want to know what it’s about. And in it the female character does something better than the male character - because she’s been doing it her whole life and he’s only just learned - and he gets mad that she’s better at it than him. And you don’t understand why he would be mad about that, because, logically, she’d be better at it than him. She’s done it more. And he’s got a picture of a woman painted on the inside of his spacesuit, like a pinup girl, and it bothers you.

But you’re fourteen and you don’t know how to put this into words.

And then you’re fifteen and you’re reading “Orphans of the Sky” because it’s by a famous sci-fi author and it’s about a lost generation ship and how cool is that?!? but the women on the ship aren’t given a name until they’re married and you spend more time wondering what people call those women up until their marriage than you do focusing on the rest of the story. Even though this tidbit of information has nothing to do with the plot line of the story and is only brought up once in passing.

But it’s a random thing to get worked up about in an otherwise all right book.

Then you’re sixteen and you read “Dune” because your brother gave it to you for Christmas and it’s one of those books you have to read to earn your geek card. You spend an entire afternoon arguing over who is the main character - Paul or Jessica. And the more you contend Jessica, the more he says Paul, and you can’t make him see how the real hero is her. And you love Chani cause she’s tough and good with a knife, but at the end of the day, her killing Paul’s challengers is just a way to degrade them because those weenies lost to a girl.

Then you’re seventeen and you don’t want to read “Stranger in a Strange Land” after the first seventy pages because something about it just leaves a bad taste in your mouth. All of this talk of water-brothers. You can’t even pin it down.

And then you’re eighteen and you’ve given up on classic sci-fi, but that doesn’t stop your brother or your father from trying to get you to read more.

Even when you bring them the books and bring them the passages and show them how the authors didn’t treat women like people.

Your brother says, “Well, that was because of the time it was written in.”

You get all worked up because these men couldn’t imagine a world in which women were equal, in which women were empowered and intelligent and literate and capable. 

You tell him - this, this is science fiction. This is all about imagining the world that could be and they couldn’t stand back long enough and dare to imagine how, not only technology would grow in time, but society would grow. 

But he blows you off because he can’t understand how it feels to be fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen and desperately wanting to like the books your father likes, because your father has good taste, and being unable to, because most of those books tell you that you’re not a full person in ways that are too subtle to put into words. It’s all cognitive dissonance: a little like a song played a bit out of tempo - enough that you recognize it’s off, but not enough to pin down what exactly is wrong.

And then one day you’re twenty-two and studying sociology and some kind teacher finally gives you the words to explain all those little feelings that built and penned around inside of you for years.

It’s like the world clicking into place. 

And that’s something your brother never had to struggle with.

[lake-girl]

Days 9-12: Fire, food, joy and love

Knocked out the remaining prompts in one mad dash! Set post-canon in the winter of 1813, the first that Laurence and Temeraire spend at Tharkay's estate.

This ended up being a long one, so see the whole thing on AO3.

At breakfast, Laurence broached the idea of attending a Christmas service. Tharkay's expression, while not at all enthusiastic, was milder than he might have expected, so he forged ahead with his reasoning. 

Continue reading...

Happy New Year!

[lake-girl]

Days 7 + 8: Hot chocolate and family

Combined two prompts. Set in the winter of 1813, during League of Dragons, while Laurence and Temeraire are chasing after the egg. Happily, they did have cocoa.

Emily entered the tent to find Mrs. Pemberton writing at the camp table, a kettle still steaming next to her.

"Good evening, Emily, I'm happy you're back; I was afraid the water might cool before you arrived." She rose and poured water into two prepared cups, and a delicious scent filled the space.

"I thought we should have a New Year's treat, and it seems that chocolate is a rarity in the Corps."

Emily bristled — she would not be treated as a disadvantaged child, and was disappointed that Mrs. Pemberton had fallen back into that misconception. She said coldly: "It is rare on campaign, certainly, but we have it at the coverts." (This was true, though it was not commonplace, even before the inavsion.)

Mrs. Pemberton's face tightened. "I see."

Emily immediately felt a cad: the chocolate was delicious, and now that she considered, it was spiced in the Incan way — Mrs. Pemberton must have carried the paste all the way from South America.

She wasn't about to apologize, but she resolved to be nicer: "Of course, this is only the second time that someone has made it just for me." Mrs. Pemberton's face unfroze just a bit, so she continued, "And the spices are different from what one gets in Britain. It's quite a wonderful surprise, very kind of you."

Mrs. Pemberton seemed to accept the peace offering and said, "It must have been a special occasion, the other time someone made a cup for you."

Emily recognized this as the kind of thing that people with manners said instead of asking questions, so she answered, "I was about ten, and Mother had just left for battle. I was quite upset, even though I knew she and Excidium would be perfectly safe. Captain Laurence found me, and made me a cup to help me settle." She savored another sip and continued, "I was quite ashamed to be caught crying, but he told me that when he first joined the navy, he blubbered for a week. I didn't believe him then, but now I suppose he was telling the truth."

"That was quite kind of him to look after you," Mrs. Pemberton answered. "It must have helped him know what to say, that he had also left home as such a tender age."

"Oh, but it is not the same at all — " Emily protested. "I have never left home!"

Mrs. Pemberton laughed. "I suppose you consider anywhere near a dragon to be home?"

"I am an aviator, after all."

"You were separated from your mother, and had no other family with you. That would be difficult for any child."

"Many of us were," Emily said, reminding herself again that Mrs. Pemberton meant to be nice. "And we managed better than many families I hear about."

AO3

[lake-girl]

Day 6: Presents

Set during Tongues of Serpents, on the trip back across the continent to Sydney.

They settled in the paltry shade of a cluster of bushes, for water and rest. Granby sprawled beside Laurence on a large flat rock, his mood light, as they were making almost twice the speed of the journey out.

Tharkay, having finished his survey of their surroundings, joined them as well, bearing a handful of curious berries, very pale yellow.

“Happy New Year,” he said, handing a stem to each of them. Laurence took it, recalling vaguely a Scottish tradition of gifts at the new year.

“It’s the new year already?” asked Granby, whose log-keeping could hardly be described as diligent.

“Indeed,” said Laurence, “It’s 1810; we’ve been a year on this continent already.” He did not linger on the fact that for him and Temeraire, it was only the first of many years. He looked at the small fruit, unsure of whether to peel it.

“Passion berries,” Tharkay explained, popping one in his mouth. “The plants are everywhere, but the ripe fruits have been stripped, I suppose by the tribes or the bunyips. Perhaps, now that our attention is not on the search, we’ll find more.”

Laurence followed his example and found the fruit creamy and sweet. “Thank you, Tenzing. Happy new year — may it be uneventful.”

AO3

[lake-girl]

Day 5: Stars

Lost steam over the holiday, back on track now! Set between Victory of Eagles and Tongues of Serpents, in December of 1808. 

Tharkay stood at the rail under the sun, thinking for the thousandth time how much he preferred nighttime on this cursed boat. (He eschewed the proper terms "ship" or "transport" for the petty pleasure of seeing Laurence wince, followed by Granby rolling his eyes, at Tharkay for baiting Laurence or at Laurence for letting him succeed, he was never certain.)

At night, he could almost imagine they weren't surrounded by hundreds of miles of empty ocean. And on clear nights, he could could study the stars. Stars had never been his primary navigation aid, and the southern skies were new to him in any case, so he had much to learn. The knowledge might prove important: his search could lead anywhere in Australia, and he had no reason to think he might find adequate maps.

Studying celestial navigation also had the benefit of engaging both Laurence and Temeraire. Some evenings, Temeraire could coax Laurence into sharing stories from his naval voyages. All the more pity that nights were so short now, just shy of the upside-down solstice.

Three, maybe two days till landfall, if the winds held. And if the gods were kind, the nights would be clear.

AO3

[lake-girl]

Day 4: Warmth

Taking the prompts out of order...easier for you and me both if I keep it chronological! This one is set during Victory of Eagles, around p. 253, on the retreat to Scotland, stopping at Loch Loggan.

Temeraire had cleaned himself off as best he could, rolling in the snow like a dog. He declined Laurence's help scrubbing -- "I am sure your hands should not be white like that, and you are beginning to shiver; anyway, I am quite a bit cleaner already" -- and nudged him towards shelter.

So Laurence took himself to the baths, regretting greatly that Temeraire had no such comfort, not in Britain. At least there were warm stones to lie on, though Laurence could not help but feel a pang for the smaller dragons whom he would surely displace.

Laurence kept his head down in the antechamber, not knowing who might object to his presence, then found a deserted corner of the pool. He let the warm water work on his frozen extremities.

He looked up in apprehension as someone approached, but it was only Granby, looking every bit as desolate as Laurence felt.

"Not a word," he said firmly, easing into the pool beside him. "We are not fretting about being captains of the two most unmanageable dragons in Christendom." (Laurence frowned at "captain" but did not correct him: the spirit was apt, in any case.) "For just this moment, we are simply enjoying the baths. "

Granby sank a bit deeper and closed his eyes, pale skin beginning to pink from the heat.

Laurence sighed. "Happy Christmas, John."

AO3

[lake-girl]

Day 3: Mistletoe

Set during Victory of Eagles, when the armed forces had retreated to Scotland at Christmastime.

“Why is Roland thrashing that midwingman?” Temeraire asked. “Ought we not help him?”

“Well, she had to kiss him,” Allen said, with a tone that Temeraire could not decipher.

“That makes no sense – if she can thrash him, why would she have to kiss him?” said Temeraire. But if Roland had indeed been wronged, she was part of his crew, so even if did not make sense: “Ought we to help her, then?”

“No, no, it was on account of the mistletoe,” Fellowes broke in. At Temeraire’s puzzled look, he continued.

“This time of year, the servants hang little sprigs of it around the covert, for a bit of fun. Your cap– er, Mr. Laurence would say it’s nonsense, but people here say if you’re under one, and someone wants to kiss you, it’s terrible luck to refuse.

"He’s been wanting to kiss her, but knew she wouldn’t have any of it, if he asked her direct. So he caught her under a mistletoe.” Ferris paused. “Like as not, he did not consider what could happen, after.”

“There, she’s blacked his eye, I bet she’ll stop now,” Allen said. Sure enough, Emily gave a final shove and stalked off.

Temeraire regarded the bruised midwingman. “How is kissing so wonderful that it is worth risking a black eye, and at the same time so awful that it’s worth giving a black eye?”

Allen looked at Fellowes, and Fellowes shook his head: “Mr. Laurence can explain it to you proper, I’m sure.” Temeraire was not at all sure of that, but resolved to ask in any case.

AO3

[lake-girl]

Day 2: Snow

For the prompt by The Dragon Deck, 12 days of Temeraire, set at the beginning of Empire of Ivory.

Granby was grateful to find Iskierka still sleeping soundly when he peeked into her clearing. He indulged in a fond smile at the small mountain of steamy warmth, surrounded by several inches of snow that had settled overnight.

Then he turned quickly to the officers' club, hoping a full breakfast would fortify him for the day's battle: Iskierka was meant to be fitted for her harness, and he had no notion of how they would manage.

He had just reached the steps when a commotion exploded, and he was quite certain in which clearing. Sprinting back, he could hear: "-- do not care in the least what it is, only it must go away! It is cold and it is wet and it has no business in my clearing!"

Said clearing was now a wholy muddy mess, and smelled of charred wood; the trees around it were badly singed. Lieutenant Lithgow, who had had the misfortune to arrive first, noticed his approach, and urgently directed the irate dragon's attention his way.

"Dearest, it is winter," he began weakly, trudging into the muck. "So we have snow instead of rain -- it is...it is quite a bit nicer! That is, when it is still snow, it stays put, rather than pooling into puddles...oh, Lord."

AO3

[lake-girl]

12 days of Temeraire: Lights

A Temeraire Christmas! Bring on the carols, the decorations, the presents...! 

But wait: "At the beginning of the 1800s, Christmas was hardly celebrated in Britain, with many business remaining open that day. ... People went about their normal business." 

Gah. Okay, let’s see what I can do with this...

(Why do I care so much about historical accuracy when...*dragons*?)

Day 1: Lights

In the cathedral square, neither dragon nor man stirred as Tharkay pushed open the door to a likely-looking house. It was decorated for mid-winter with sweet-smelling evergreen boughs. Christmas candles stood unburned on the front window sills; apparently the owners had overlooked the seasonal teaching of welcome, as they fled the evening’s draconic descent.

A memory surfaced -- a menorah blazing proudly in the Madens' front window, the night he first arrived in Istanbul and they opened their house to him.

He exhaled carefully, then moved softly toward the the kitchen, in search of tea.

Notes

Just before Empire of Ivory p. 20, where Tharkay offers Laurence his cup of requisitioned tea. 

And the Scots at this time would have burned candles on Christmas Eve, to light the way as Joseph and Mary searched for an inn. 

AO3