Cross-posted from the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project
Title: An Old Man’s Tale
Author: kira
World: Madrona (capital city)
Characters: Armand, various unnamed characters
Borrow: Yes
Word count: 609
Rating: PG 13 for Armand being a bit of a dirty old man
Summary: Armand is busy making scenery for the dance school’s first performance of the season...
Author’s note: This is unbetaed, so any mistakes therein are my own.
Author’s note 2: This was written for the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project.
Armand hammered away at the piece of scenery he was making for the school’s first ballet of the season. The stage was a hive of activity, with others painting scenery as well as those building it like he was. He had been working at the school since his teens, building scenery as well as fixing things. The petits rats, the ballerinas in training, who were little more than children, scampered about, in a strange game of fetch, running from worker to worker, bring water, or tools from the bin at the far end of the stage. A few girls from the corps de ballet, helped as well.
Armand paused in his work to accept a cup of water from a young dancer. She was pretty, and when he was in teens and twenties he would have dallied with her. Now, she was far too young for him, her small breasts and slim hips making her look far younger than she probably was. Hell, he was probably old enough to be her great grandfather. Still, a man could dream of days gone by. Besides, he may be old, but he was still as virile as the young men working on the scenery. He just liked his girls a little older. Smiling, Armand held out the cup for more water. “Mademoiselle?”
She giggled as grabbed the cup and dashed off to get more for him.
He frowned at the giggles coming from the water station. He looked over there, noting sourly that one of the young workmen was busy flirting with girls, who had gathered around the water station to vie for his attention. Was he once that young and obnoxious? Probably… Good luck to you, boy! They’re fickle and faithless, and most will happily spread their legs for someone older with more oinks in his pocket…
Armand thanked the girl when she came back with his water, before getting back to work. The trees, he was making, weren’t going to make themselves. It was easy to fall back into his rhythm and it was not long, before he finished the tree he was working on and starting another. A failed dancer on the stage, Armand, had through the years, found other ways to dance, such as in the corps de ballets’ beds. Letting his thoughts drift back to his younger days, he recalled a pretty young dancer he had bedded. The girl had gotten herself pregnant and thrown out of the school, but she did end up a duchess in the end, having somehow convinced some doddering old fool of a patron the child was his.
Armand mentally shrugged as he shuffled off to get more wooden leaves for his tree. Returning with a handful, he hammered away, creating more “trees” for the dance school’s production of “A Midsummer’s Day.” The girls would be dressed as fairies, the boys fauns. Armand heard their costumes made them look as though they were naked, which should attract the roving eyes of the patrons. If they were lucky, several dancers will probably move up in the ranks.
Finishing the trees he was working on, Armand handed his hammer to the young man, who had annoyed him earlier. He left the stage for his room in the dormitory. Tired and sore, Armand looked forward to a hot bath. If he was lucky, maybe he could talk a couple of girls into washing his back. He may be old enough to be their grandfather, but he was still a man and just because he was not a dance teacher, it did not mean he could not teach them how to dance in other ways…
Author: kira
World: Madrona (capital city)
Characters: Armand, various unnamed characters
Borrow: Yes
Word count: 609
Rating: PG 13 for Armand being a bit of a dirty old man
Summary: Armand is busy making scenery for the dance school’s first performance of the season...
Author’s note: This is unbetaed, so any mistakes therein are my own.
Author’s note 2: This was written for the 12 days of Ficmas & Madrona Project.
Armand hammered away at the piece of scenery he was making for the school’s first ballet of the season. The stage was a hive of activity, with others painting scenery as well as those building it like he was. He had been working at the school since his teens, building scenery as well as fixing things. The petits rats, the ballerinas in training, who were little more than children, scampered about, in a strange game of fetch, running from worker to worker, bring water, or tools from the bin at the far end of the stage. A few girls from the corps de ballet, helped as well.
Armand paused in his work to accept a cup of water from a young dancer. She was pretty, and when he was in teens and twenties he would have dallied with her. Now, she was far too young for him, her small breasts and slim hips making her look far younger than she probably was. Hell, he was probably old enough to be her great grandfather. Still, a man could dream of days gone by. Besides, he may be old, but he was still as virile as the young men working on the scenery. He just liked his girls a little older. Smiling, Armand held out the cup for more water. “Mademoiselle?”
She giggled as grabbed the cup and dashed off to get more for him.
He frowned at the giggles coming from the water station. He looked over there, noting sourly that one of the young workmen was busy flirting with girls, who had gathered around the water station to vie for his attention. Was he once that young and obnoxious? Probably… Good luck to you, boy! They’re fickle and faithless, and most will happily spread their legs for someone older with more oinks in his pocket…
Armand thanked the girl when she came back with his water, before getting back to work. The trees, he was making, weren’t going to make themselves. It was easy to fall back into his rhythm and it was not long, before he finished the tree he was working on and starting another. A failed dancer on the stage, Armand, had through the years, found other ways to dance, such as in the corps de ballets’ beds. Letting his thoughts drift back to his younger days, he recalled a pretty young dancer he had bedded. The girl had gotten herself pregnant and thrown out of the school, but she did end up a duchess in the end, having somehow convinced some doddering old fool of a patron the child was his.
Armand mentally shrugged as he shuffled off to get more wooden leaves for his tree. Returning with a handful, he hammered away, creating more “trees” for the dance school’s production of “A Midsummer’s Day.” The girls would be dressed as fairies, the boys fauns. Armand heard their costumes made them look as though they were naked, which should attract the roving eyes of the patrons. If they were lucky, several dancers will probably move up in the ranks.
Finishing the trees he was working on, Armand handed his hammer to the young man, who had annoyed him earlier. He left the stage for his room in the dormitory. Tired and sore, Armand looked forward to a hot bath. If he was lucky, maybe he could talk a couple of girls into washing his back. He may be old enough to be their grandfather, but he was still a man and just because he was not a dance teacher, it did not mean he could not teach them how to dance in other ways…