I have a board on Pinterest that’s full of writing inspiration. The terrible temptation with Pinterest is to just pin stuff and never actually do stuff. So this is me doing stuff with it.
This scene is actually really exciting for me because I’m finally writing a character I’ve been intending to for awhile. I’m in the process of writing a steampunk/faery Beauty and the Beast retelling, and I’ve been struggling with introducing 8 year old Lucilla to the story. Mostly because I got way too excited about her potential and then I was paralyzed.
Anyway. Here’s what I’ve got so far. I don’t want to give you too much, but I’m definitely going to be continuing this piece today.
Flynn finished his hourly rounds and stood near the helm, surveying the ship as they flew steadily. The weather was fine and the evening predicted a peaceful night, one that they could certainly use. Looking around, his eye caught the little girl curled up in the bow of the airship.
He crossed the deck and stood near her, on the pretense of gazing out over the mountains below.
“It’s a lovely evening. Smell that air? There’s snow down there,” he commented. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shoulder lift in a shrug.
“Sure was a fine supper.” Flynn was fine with a one-sided conversation; he’d had plenty with Captain Drake. But he suspected that taciturn wasn’t Drake’s sister’s default.
“I want to go home.” Lucilla spoke so softly that the wind nearly whisked the words away before he heard them.
Flynn nodded. “And I want to go to the moon. It’s not happening, sweetheart. Time to accept that.”
She turned her eyes to him, full of fire and glistening with tears. “I thought you were my friend!”
“I’d like to be. But you know as well as I that Wings is your new home. Your brother is your guardian now. This is his home and yours too.” He leaned forward and braced his elbows on the railing. “But you’ve got to admit, it’s not so terrible.”
“There’s nothing to do here.” The fire burned out of her, leaving behind a sulky eight year old.
“Hasn’t anyone shown you the library?” Flynn raised a brow, having carried Lucilla’s own trunkful of books on board himself.
“Miss Annabelle is always in there, and Sebastian said I’m not to disturb her work.”
“I think you’ll find then when Miss Annabelle is working, it would take an earthquake to disturb her. Let’s go see what we can find, eh?” He turned and headed slowly across the deck, eventually hearing her quiet footsteps following.