This one dedicated to friend ZosiaDetroit and based on her fabulous fic The Scion, which if you aren't reading what is WRONG with you? This won't make any sense if you aren't reading that, but look, it's not my job to make you do the right thing.

Also is there a word for fic that is based on fic? 2nd gen? GRANDfic? I like that. This is grandfic.


The new instrument still feels unfamiliar, and his fingers are clumsy on the strings.

She isn't helping. Chin perched on his shoulder, arms snaking over his ribs; her slender hands are multiple distractions from the task at hand; unmagical strings pop now from the truth he isn't saying and he can't help laughing even while blurting out, "Confound it, woman! You were the one who said you were in the mood for harp-playing."

"Yes." Her breath is warm on his ear and he could swear, sometimes, that she still knows how to purr. "But I didn't say which one."