Untitled fic beginning [Aveyond; Lars, Elini, implied Rhen/Lars]
This fic came about largely because my muse likes to laugh at me.
ME: So, I was thinking of working on the novel. Or maybe doing some RPing. How about it?
MUSE: Mmm... nope. You know what you really need to write? Fanfic starring characters from an obscure, poorly-written RPG.
ME: ...You don't even listen to a word I say, do you?
MUSE: Aw, c'mon. It'll be easy. All you have to do is have Lars be tsundere in Elini's general direction, and the scene will practically write itself.
ME: Well...
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The bastard is looking at her again. Not just looking, but looking. Like she’s some kind of artwork that he can stare at for hours.
Worse, Rhen is looking back. Which isn’t anything new; she’s been looking-as-in-looking ever since she met That Bloody Sun Priest. But for some reason, after three weeks it’s gone from being funny to vaguely annoying to really annoying, and now he just wants to tell them to stop it already.
“Has your dinner offended you, northerner?”
He tears his eyes away from the nauseating spectacle, and glares at Elini. “No.”
“Ah.” She looks across the fire to where Rhen and That Bloody Sun Priest are making calf eyes at each other, and smiles. “It is something else that offends you.”
He hmphs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” she says, still looking amused, “that you are clearly jealous.”
“I am not - ” Rhen turns and looks at him quizzically at the sound of his raised voice; he shakes his head and drops his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I am not jealous!”
She looks at him calmly, evenly, clearly weighing his words. And says, “You are a terrible liar, northerner.”
“I am not - ” No. He is not going to get into this argument with her. It can only end with him getting all flustered and her pulling out examples and making him want to die. “That’s not the point!”
Rhen doesn’t even twitch this time. He’s not sure whether to feel relieved or insulted.
“I do not see why you are so intent on denying it,” she continues quite calmly. “She is neither diseased nor mad; it can hardly be shameful for you to desire her.”
On second thought, maybe he should have stuck to arguing about how good of a liar he is. “It’s not - that’s none of your business.”
“Quite the contrary, northerner. Anything that disrupts the harmony of our group is entirely my business.”
He glowers at her. “You just like to gossip.”
For some reason, she looks even more amused. “That as well.”
That was an insult, dammit! Stop looking at me like I said something funny! “Then do it somewhere else.”
“Why should I? The other members of our party are… occupied” - he twitches violently - “and you provide such wonderful entertainment.”
I am not your gods-damned floor show! Fuming, he turns away, feeling her smile on his back.
“God, Lars” - Rhen, finally tearing herself away from making googly eyes at That Bloody Sun Priest - “would it kill you to not be rude?”
Sometimes Lars just hates everything.
ME: So, I was thinking of working on the novel. Or maybe doing some RPing. How about it?
MUSE: Mmm... nope. You know what you really need to write? Fanfic starring characters from an obscure, poorly-written RPG.
ME: ...You don't even listen to a word I say, do you?
MUSE: Aw, c'mon. It'll be easy. All you have to do is have Lars be tsundere in Elini's general direction, and the scene will practically write itself.
ME: Well...
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The bastard is looking at her again. Not just looking, but looking. Like she’s some kind of artwork that he can stare at for hours.
Worse, Rhen is looking back. Which isn’t anything new; she’s been looking-as-in-looking ever since she met That Bloody Sun Priest. But for some reason, after three weeks it’s gone from being funny to vaguely annoying to really annoying, and now he just wants to tell them to stop it already.
“Has your dinner offended you, northerner?”
He tears his eyes away from the nauseating spectacle, and glares at Elini. “No.”
“Ah.” She looks across the fire to where Rhen and That Bloody Sun Priest are making calf eyes at each other, and smiles. “It is something else that offends you.”
He hmphs. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means,” she says, still looking amused, “that you are clearly jealous.”
“I am not - ” Rhen turns and looks at him quizzically at the sound of his raised voice; he shakes his head and drops his voice to an exaggerated whisper. “I am not jealous!”
She looks at him calmly, evenly, clearly weighing his words. And says, “You are a terrible liar, northerner.”
“I am not - ” No. He is not going to get into this argument with her. It can only end with him getting all flustered and her pulling out examples and making him want to die. “That’s not the point!”
Rhen doesn’t even twitch this time. He’s not sure whether to feel relieved or insulted.
“I do not see why you are so intent on denying it,” she continues quite calmly. “She is neither diseased nor mad; it can hardly be shameful for you to desire her.”
On second thought, maybe he should have stuck to arguing about how good of a liar he is. “It’s not - that’s none of your business.”
“Quite the contrary, northerner. Anything that disrupts the harmony of our group is entirely my business.”
He glowers at her. “You just like to gossip.”
For some reason, she looks even more amused. “That as well.”
That was an insult, dammit! Stop looking at me like I said something funny! “Then do it somewhere else.”
“Why should I? The other members of our party are… occupied” - he twitches violently - “and you provide such wonderful entertainment.”
I am not your gods-damned floor show! Fuming, he turns away, feeling her smile on his back.
“God, Lars” - Rhen, finally tearing herself away from making googly eyes at That Bloody Sun Priest - “would it kill you to not be rude?”
Sometimes Lars just hates everything.