Kingmaker/Kingbreaker, Asher Knows Best, Gar/Asher, Pg
Title: Asher Knows Best
Author:
hapendfro
Beta:
oropher_777
Character/Pairing/Group: Gar/Asher
Word Count: 993
Rating: PG13
Summary: Gar and Asher set out for an afternoon race in which Gar tries to prove himself invincible, but Asher knows best.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to either of these characters or this setting. That privilege belongs to Karen Miller and her publishers. No copy write infringement is intended.
Warning(s): none
Asher/Gar table 4 (gritty)
Type your cut contents here.
Asher Knows Best
“Come on, you daft horse. You be moving like you think you’re some ole plow horse, instead of one of the horses from his Highness Prince Gar’s stables,” Asher complained loudly to his horse.
Cygnet, as usual, ignored his master. Rolling his ears back, the silver-grey stallion continued on with his own steady, yet ground-covering, gait. It had been the inclusion of this beautiful animal that had sealed the deal when Gar offered Asher the position of Assistant Olken Administrator.
“I hope you realize if you let that bloody prince catch us, you’ll be served up as dog food to the hounds that hunt for the king’s meat. Now don’t you go a-rolling those eyes at me. I be as serious as Darran when he be getting his dainty panties all in a twist when some idiot meister has a piss problem.”
“Are you going to lollygag around here all day? I thought this was supposed to be a race!” yelled a voice from the man who came galloping up from behind him. Prince Gar sat atop his horse Ballodair, handsome and regal, just like he was out for an afternoon stroll. A stroll if one could discount the thundering hooves.
Asher groaned. How Gar had managed to catch him, he had no idea. He’d had a good fifteen minute head start on Gar, and Cygnet was beginning to show signs of overexertion. Asher was worn out as well; he was hot and his skin was gritty from the dirt and gravel thrown up by Cygnet’s hooves. How had Gar managed to catch him? Asher was not one to give up without a fight, however. They were still a hundred yards from their goal; maybe there was still time for an extra shot of speed from Cygnet. Trying to determine how much extra boost was needed, he glanced over at Gar, the man who made him want to excel in every thing he did, and brought such joy to his life.
What he saw put a halt to any thoughts of continuing this race. Gar was grey with exhaustion, his pale hair dark with sweat and his fine white teeth were grimaced in what he was sure Gar meant to be seen as a smile, but Asher knew better.
Asher knew his prince, his love, better than any one did. The kingdom and all his princely duties were exhausting him. Asher tried to take some of the stress off him, but the prince was still taking on more and more of the responsibilities of his father.
King Borne was slowly killing himself by WeatherWorking far longer than was safe, but there was no other choice. Fane, Gar’s sister, was simply not ready; it was far too dangerous for her to try. Asher knew Gar blamed himself. If only he’d been born with the magic, the magic the Kingdom of Lur depended upon for its protection. Fane must remain safe until she was ready; in the meantime they all, the king and his kingdom, must wait. She was their only hope. But until then, both Borne and Gar worked themselves to exhaustion each day.
Gar tried to make up for his lack of magic by tireless work and study. He held his head high, and carried out his duties without complaint, and usually with great joy. Only in Asher’s arms late in the evenings when all was quiet did he sob out his pain and frustration of being referred to as ‘the cripple’.
“Gar, stop!” Asher shouted with concern, as Gar started to sway in his saddle. “I reckon we can put the blue ribbon on you for this one. I see no reason whatsoever, good or bad, for you to do yourself a mischief.”
Gar continued on as if he had not heard. Swearing under his breath, Asher sped Cygnet up fast enough to grab hold of Ballodair’s reins, and slow the other horse down. The horse’s coat was dark with perspiration, his sides heaved and his mouth foamed round the bit from being ridden too hard and too fast. The man sitting atop him wasn’t in much better shape.
Asher slowed both horses down to a canter, and then a trot, and finally a slow plodding walk before bringing the horses to a complete stop. Asher leaped off Cygnet barely in time to catch Gar as he fell from Ballodair.
“You daft prince!” exclaimed Asher. “What ole Darran gonna be thinking, I come back to town, with you in this kind of shape? I’ll tell you what he be a-thinking. He be thinking Asher don’t know how to care for his prince. That’s exactly what he’ll think,” Asher’s voice softened some as he gently lowered Gar to the soft grass.
“I’m sorry, Asher. I don’t know what came over me,” Gar spoke quietly, “I had such plans for this afternoon. The horses weren’t the only things that were going to be ridden.” He smiled weakly, attempting a smirk.
“Aye, your highness, I allow I caught on to that. Figured that be the reason for the mad gallop across the countryside on such a warm and lovely spring day. I also reckon if you be planning on any such activity taking place today, you’d best put that thought right out of your head. You’re in no shape, at all, for that kind of riding today. Only kind of riding to be done on this day will be the ride home after you’ve rested a bit.”
“Yes, Asher. As usual you know best. You always do, even when I don’t want to believe you,” Gar said as he laid his head in Asher’s lap. His eyes closed and his breathing evened out as Asher gently stroked the prince’s flaxen hair back from his forehead.
“That’s because I love you, you daft prince,” Asher whispered to the sleeping man before he turned his own face up to catch the warmth of the sun’s rays.
Author:
hapendfro
Beta:
oropher_777
Character/Pairing/Group: Gar/Asher
Word Count: 993
Rating: PG13
Summary: Gar and Asher set out for an afternoon race in which Gar tries to prove himself invincible, but Asher knows best.
Disclaimer: I have no rights to either of these characters or this setting. That privilege belongs to Karen Miller and her publishers. No copy write infringement is intended.
Warning(s): none
Asher/Gar table 4 (gritty)
Type your cut contents here.
Asher Knows Best
“Come on, you daft horse. You be moving like you think you’re some ole plow horse, instead of one of the horses from his Highness Prince Gar’s stables,” Asher complained loudly to his horse.
Cygnet, as usual, ignored his master. Rolling his ears back, the silver-grey stallion continued on with his own steady, yet ground-covering, gait. It had been the inclusion of this beautiful animal that had sealed the deal when Gar offered Asher the position of Assistant Olken Administrator.
“I hope you realize if you let that bloody prince catch us, you’ll be served up as dog food to the hounds that hunt for the king’s meat. Now don’t you go a-rolling those eyes at me. I be as serious as Darran when he be getting his dainty panties all in a twist when some idiot meister has a piss problem.”
“Are you going to lollygag around here all day? I thought this was supposed to be a race!” yelled a voice from the man who came galloping up from behind him. Prince Gar sat atop his horse Ballodair, handsome and regal, just like he was out for an afternoon stroll. A stroll if one could discount the thundering hooves.
Asher groaned. How Gar had managed to catch him, he had no idea. He’d had a good fifteen minute head start on Gar, and Cygnet was beginning to show signs of overexertion. Asher was worn out as well; he was hot and his skin was gritty from the dirt and gravel thrown up by Cygnet’s hooves. How had Gar managed to catch him? Asher was not one to give up without a fight, however. They were still a hundred yards from their goal; maybe there was still time for an extra shot of speed from Cygnet. Trying to determine how much extra boost was needed, he glanced over at Gar, the man who made him want to excel in every thing he did, and brought such joy to his life.
What he saw put a halt to any thoughts of continuing this race. Gar was grey with exhaustion, his pale hair dark with sweat and his fine white teeth were grimaced in what he was sure Gar meant to be seen as a smile, but Asher knew better.
Asher knew his prince, his love, better than any one did. The kingdom and all his princely duties were exhausting him. Asher tried to take some of the stress off him, but the prince was still taking on more and more of the responsibilities of his father.
King Borne was slowly killing himself by WeatherWorking far longer than was safe, but there was no other choice. Fane, Gar’s sister, was simply not ready; it was far too dangerous for her to try. Asher knew Gar blamed himself. If only he’d been born with the magic, the magic the Kingdom of Lur depended upon for its protection. Fane must remain safe until she was ready; in the meantime they all, the king and his kingdom, must wait. She was their only hope. But until then, both Borne and Gar worked themselves to exhaustion each day.
Gar tried to make up for his lack of magic by tireless work and study. He held his head high, and carried out his duties without complaint, and usually with great joy. Only in Asher’s arms late in the evenings when all was quiet did he sob out his pain and frustration of being referred to as ‘the cripple’.
“Gar, stop!” Asher shouted with concern, as Gar started to sway in his saddle. “I reckon we can put the blue ribbon on you for this one. I see no reason whatsoever, good or bad, for you to do yourself a mischief.”
Gar continued on as if he had not heard. Swearing under his breath, Asher sped Cygnet up fast enough to grab hold of Ballodair’s reins, and slow the other horse down. The horse’s coat was dark with perspiration, his sides heaved and his mouth foamed round the bit from being ridden too hard and too fast. The man sitting atop him wasn’t in much better shape.
Asher slowed both horses down to a canter, and then a trot, and finally a slow plodding walk before bringing the horses to a complete stop. Asher leaped off Cygnet barely in time to catch Gar as he fell from Ballodair.
“You daft prince!” exclaimed Asher. “What ole Darran gonna be thinking, I come back to town, with you in this kind of shape? I’ll tell you what he be a-thinking. He be thinking Asher don’t know how to care for his prince. That’s exactly what he’ll think,” Asher’s voice softened some as he gently lowered Gar to the soft grass.
“I’m sorry, Asher. I don’t know what came over me,” Gar spoke quietly, “I had such plans for this afternoon. The horses weren’t the only things that were going to be ridden.” He smiled weakly, attempting a smirk.
“Aye, your highness, I allow I caught on to that. Figured that be the reason for the mad gallop across the countryside on such a warm and lovely spring day. I also reckon if you be planning on any such activity taking place today, you’d best put that thought right out of your head. You’re in no shape, at all, for that kind of riding today. Only kind of riding to be done on this day will be the ride home after you’ve rested a bit.”
“Yes, Asher. As usual you know best. You always do, even when I don’t want to believe you,” Gar said as he laid his head in Asher’s lap. His eyes closed and his breathing evened out as Asher gently stroked the prince’s flaxen hair back from his forehead.
“That’s because I love you, you daft prince,” Asher whispered to the sleeping man before he turned his own face up to catch the warmth of the sun’s rays.