As part of my 'I'm going to write more drabbles and fewer ficlets' resolution, I'm, er, going to write more drabbles. Then, you see, it's like I'm writing, but without the stress
( Read more... )
Hmm. Didn't quite come out the way I intended it. Oh, well.
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CURIOSITY
It's not that she felt threatened. She knew the practicalities of the matter, and Londo Mollari could not afford to replace her as wife, unlike some poor wretches of his former acquaintance. The Emperor would not stand for it a second time. She perfectly, completely safe.
Still, Daggair allowed, perhaps she should check on the new arrival. Londo had refused to name his bride-to-be until the actual nuptial day and Daggair was planning on being quite regrettably ill at that happy time.
Surely a small peek was permissible.
"Daggair. What are you doing here?" Timov, in what could only be described a shocking state of undress.
"Aah, Timov, my dear. How lovely to see so much of you."
"I'm sure," Timov said drily. "What are you doing here, Daggair? Shouldn't you be off prostrating yourself across Londo's nuptial bed in protest?"
"I just wanted to wish the couple a happy day, Timov. Surely you, as first wife, can understand how important it is for us to have harmony in our marriage."
"Our marriage appears to be progressing without it, Daggair." Timov smiled tightly. "You shouldn't bother trying to look in on her; I've already sent her to her bath."
"Oh? I don't suppose the dear thing would require some extra help?" Timov's dresses were certainly appropriate for the occasion, Daggair thought; she doubted that Timov had displayed her legs since the last time she had helped with her husband's new bride ritual bath. "Perhaps someone more aware of what Londo would like on his special day," she added sweetly.
Timov threw her hands up in exasperation and started working at the ties keeping her skirts hitched up. "Go help her wash, Daggair. I'm sure you'll find you're kindred spirits." She hissed as she undid the last knot and the silk tumbled down, hiding Timov's legs for what Daggair supposed must be another decade.
Arggh, I thought I had already feedback'd, but now upon checking see I had not! Sorry. Anyway, that's delightful sparring between Daggair and Timov, and it occurs to me that Daggair, Timov and Mariel ought to have a drawing room comedy spin-off of their own!
Re: C is for...kangeikoApril 29 2006, 21:13:56 UTC
Not a problem hon'. :-) Glad you liked it!
it occurs to me that Daggair, Timov and Mariel ought to have a drawing room comedy spin-off of their own!
*pause*
You know, this would be just the sort of thing that a seasoned theatrical_muse-er such as yourself would be able to manage... *cough cough nudge nudge*
*
CURIOSITY
It's not that she felt threatened. She knew the practicalities of the matter, and Londo Mollari could not afford to replace her as wife, unlike some poor wretches of his former acquaintance. The Emperor would not stand for it a second time. She perfectly, completely safe.
Still, Daggair allowed, perhaps she should check on the new arrival. Londo had refused to name his bride-to-be until the actual nuptial day and Daggair was planning on being quite regrettably ill at that happy time.
Surely a small peek was permissible.
"Daggair. What are you doing here?" Timov, in what could only be described a shocking state of undress.
"Aah, Timov, my dear. How lovely to see so much of you."
"I'm sure," Timov said drily. "What are you doing here, Daggair? Shouldn't you be off prostrating yourself across Londo's nuptial bed in protest?"
"I just wanted to wish the couple a happy day, Timov. Surely you, as first wife, can understand how important it is for us to have harmony in our marriage."
"Our marriage appears to be progressing without it, Daggair." Timov smiled tightly. "You shouldn't bother trying to look in on her; I've already sent her to her bath."
"Oh? I don't suppose the dear thing would require some extra help?" Timov's dresses were certainly appropriate for the occasion, Daggair thought; she doubted that Timov had displayed her legs since the last time she had helped with her husband's new bride ritual bath. "Perhaps someone more aware of what Londo would like on his special day," she added sweetly.
Timov threw her hands up in exasperation and started working at the ties keeping her skirts hitched up. "Go help her wash, Daggair. I'm sure you'll find you're kindred spirits." She hissed as she undid the last knot and the silk tumbled down, hiding Timov's legs for what Daggair supposed must be another decade.
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it occurs to me that Daggair, Timov and Mariel ought to have a drawing room comedy spin-off of their own!
*pause*
You know, this would be just the sort of thing that a seasoned theatrical_muse-er such as yourself would be able to manage... *cough cough nudge nudge*
Reply
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