Slip, Slip, Knit, Turn [Reynir]
May. 6th, 2017 07:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Slip, Slip, Knit, Turn
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Reynir and his father (& Tuuri)
Rating: 0+
Length: 200 words
Summary: His father taught him to knit, and when he most needs something to do with his hands, he misses it.
Other: Inspired by Reynir's through-the-door conversation with Tuuri in ch15, with a dash of my own experiences. Prompt was "Reynir - Knitting". [Original post]
(If anyone's curious, "slip slip knit turn" is also known as short row - it's a technique used for shaping.)
**Kiraly did a wonderful little drawing based on this fic, and you can see it over here at her tumblr. :)
Slip, Slip, Knit, Turn
His father taught him.
Quiet words, and patient instructions, and equally patient corrections.
"I want to be as good as you!" Reynir had said, looking up at him with wide eyes. For that, he received a laugh, and a pat on the shoulder, and reassurance.
"It'll take a while, but you just might."
So he didn't complain about all the times he had to unravel and start over. When the tension wasn't right and he bit his lip, frustrated, trying to fix it.
If he could work with a hand like his father's, some day, it would be worth it.
Tuuri's voice came from the other side of the door.
She told Reynir about her life, and his insides ached, and he thought of home. Thin sunlight and gentle instructions.
If only he could ask, "What do I do now?"
That was what he always asked when he didn't understand the stitch, the pattern, the instructions printed in the old, yellowing books. And there was always an answer. Clear, simple, and easy to understand, at least after a while.
He listened to her talk, and longed for his father's voice, and the feeling of knitting needles grasped in his hands.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Reynir and his father (& Tuuri)
Rating: 0+
Length: 200 words
Summary: His father taught him to knit, and when he most needs something to do with his hands, he misses it.
Other: Inspired by Reynir's through-the-door conversation with Tuuri in ch15, with a dash of my own experiences. Prompt was "Reynir - Knitting". [Original post]
(If anyone's curious, "slip slip knit turn" is also known as short row - it's a technique used for shaping.)
**Kiraly did a wonderful little drawing based on this fic, and you can see it over here at her tumblr. :)
Slip, Slip, Knit, Turn
His father taught him.
Quiet words, and patient instructions, and equally patient corrections.
"I want to be as good as you!" Reynir had said, looking up at him with wide eyes. For that, he received a laugh, and a pat on the shoulder, and reassurance.
"It'll take a while, but you just might."
So he didn't complain about all the times he had to unravel and start over. When the tension wasn't right and he bit his lip, frustrated, trying to fix it.
If he could work with a hand like his father's, some day, it would be worth it.
Tuuri's voice came from the other side of the door.
She told Reynir about her life, and his insides ached, and he thought of home. Thin sunlight and gentle instructions.
If only he could ask, "What do I do now?"
That was what he always asked when he didn't understand the stitch, the pattern, the instructions printed in the old, yellowing books. And there was always an answer. Clear, simple, and easy to understand, at least after a while.
He listened to her talk, and longed for his father's voice, and the feeling of knitting needles grasped in his hands.
