Fic(let). Spawn.
Yup, Queen, I actually got it written. started... barely a half hour before posting this, so its hot off the press, as it were. ^^ Can't guarantee it'll be my best writing - minimal editing and my brain hath been fried by the Writing of the Research Paper. x_x
So yes, I wrote this for queenofspades89 since she finishes her last IB paper today. ^^ 'Tis Spawn!fic, and owns a title of weird punnage. Or something.
Title: An Increase of Heat
Author: ME!!! What a shocker!
Rating: PG, I guess. ^^ Harmless enough.
Disclaimer: *cackles* Tis Spawn. I don't disclaim Spawn, because it has little to nothing to do with PotC.
An Increase of Heat
Snow lay thick on the ground outside and icicles glistened from the edges of roofs. The courtyard was a fairy-tale of ice and snow, a bitter, biting winter wonderland. So the odd looks I was getting were perfectly justified. Morgan, at least, was swathed in white furs and blue velvet. It was easy to imagine him outside in that despicable weather in all his barbaric glory. Yes, I mused, he would definitely match. An ice prince in his icy kingdom. I, on the other hand, dressed in thin leathers and my trade-mark torn shirt-sleeves, looked quite fit for the deep woods in mid-summer. I knew. I dressed like that on purpose.
“My dearest,” my brother was saying - no, purring obscenely, “you know we don’t want that to ever happen! Goodness, only imagine the havoc it would wreak in our…” He flapped a hand around haplessly, searching for a word. I snorted - he looked so much like Da it was funny. Morgan shot me a disgusted look and buried his hand in his lap. He knew what the snort had meant.
“Lives?” I suggested, aping the clipped drawl of a German statesman. Hilde sniffed, that ladylike imitation of a snort.
“As if I don’t know the nonsense you pair get up to on a regular basis anyway. It is common knowledge that you are more akin to the Vikings of old then honest seadogs.”
Morgan bared his teeth in his version of a friendly grin, and barked mockingly. I rolled my eyes and faked woundedness.
“Dearest Hildegarde, you hurt me. Can you not tell how innocent I am?” The face I pulled had tricked women far and near. When pulled in seriousness. Hilde did know, and we only denied it out of legal necessity. At least, I did. Morgan was an uncivilized bastard and didn’t.
Hilde actually snorted this time and rose to pace frenetically from wall to wall. Her maidservants stiffened and turned their shocked eyes away from me to watch her, with hawk-like intensity.
Whoever said that maids were timid has never met Northern ones. I’ve gotten more slaps from one of them than entire nations of other women combined.
Morgan watched Hilde, too, then as she reached the far wall, sprang up and swaggered over to her, exaggerating his sailor’s roll. I rolled my eyes and slumped deeper in my chair, one hand draped artfully across the arm, the other dangling off of the back.
There was no specific tune to my humming as I waited, watching the still, cold landscape outside. I knew what Hilde wanted, and I knew what I would do. Unlike my dearest brother, I maintained civilized contacts within governments. I knew exactly what was going on. And I knew he knew I knew what was going on. But in all likelihood… he probably didn’t even dream of how much I exactly knew. Always underestimating me, he was. I allowed myself a slow, lazy smirk before rising from my chair and sauntering to the doorway.
“See you in port, Brother,” I called over my shoulder to his startled, frozen form.
I grinned again as Hilde’s laughter echoed down the hallway after me. Poor Morgan, always being buffeted this way and that. He could have learned all I knew, but he despised our dear old man too much to act almost anything like him. When he was more like to him than I myself was - and I had Da’s looks and fancies. Well… we both had Da’s fancies, but that aside…
The porter didn’t even bother asking me if I wanted a coat as I stepped outside into the blinding glare of a winter afternoon.
So yes, I wrote this for queenofspades89 since she finishes her last IB paper today. ^^ 'Tis Spawn!fic, and owns a title of weird punnage. Or something.
Title: An Increase of Heat
Author: ME!!! What a shocker!
Rating: PG, I guess. ^^ Harmless enough.
Disclaimer: *cackles* Tis Spawn. I don't disclaim Spawn, because it has little to nothing to do with PotC.
An Increase of Heat
Snow lay thick on the ground outside and icicles glistened from the edges of roofs. The courtyard was a fairy-tale of ice and snow, a bitter, biting winter wonderland. So the odd looks I was getting were perfectly justified. Morgan, at least, was swathed in white furs and blue velvet. It was easy to imagine him outside in that despicable weather in all his barbaric glory. Yes, I mused, he would definitely match. An ice prince in his icy kingdom. I, on the other hand, dressed in thin leathers and my trade-mark torn shirt-sleeves, looked quite fit for the deep woods in mid-summer. I knew. I dressed like that on purpose.
“My dearest,” my brother was saying - no, purring obscenely, “you know we don’t want that to ever happen! Goodness, only imagine the havoc it would wreak in our…” He flapped a hand around haplessly, searching for a word. I snorted - he looked so much like Da it was funny. Morgan shot me a disgusted look and buried his hand in his lap. He knew what the snort had meant.
“Lives?” I suggested, aping the clipped drawl of a German statesman. Hilde sniffed, that ladylike imitation of a snort.
“As if I don’t know the nonsense you pair get up to on a regular basis anyway. It is common knowledge that you are more akin to the Vikings of old then honest seadogs.”
Morgan bared his teeth in his version of a friendly grin, and barked mockingly. I rolled my eyes and faked woundedness.
“Dearest Hildegarde, you hurt me. Can you not tell how innocent I am?” The face I pulled had tricked women far and near. When pulled in seriousness. Hilde did know, and we only denied it out of legal necessity. At least, I did. Morgan was an uncivilized bastard and didn’t.
Hilde actually snorted this time and rose to pace frenetically from wall to wall. Her maidservants stiffened and turned their shocked eyes away from me to watch her, with hawk-like intensity.
Whoever said that maids were timid has never met Northern ones. I’ve gotten more slaps from one of them than entire nations of other women combined.
Morgan watched Hilde, too, then as she reached the far wall, sprang up and swaggered over to her, exaggerating his sailor’s roll. I rolled my eyes and slumped deeper in my chair, one hand draped artfully across the arm, the other dangling off of the back.
There was no specific tune to my humming as I waited, watching the still, cold landscape outside. I knew what Hilde wanted, and I knew what I would do. Unlike my dearest brother, I maintained civilized contacts within governments. I knew exactly what was going on. And I knew he knew I knew what was going on. But in all likelihood… he probably didn’t even dream of how much I exactly knew. Always underestimating me, he was. I allowed myself a slow, lazy smirk before rising from my chair and sauntering to the doorway.
“See you in port, Brother,” I called over my shoulder to his startled, frozen form.
I grinned again as Hilde’s laughter echoed down the hallway after me. Poor Morgan, always being buffeted this way and that. He could have learned all I knew, but he despised our dear old man too much to act almost anything like him. When he was more like to him than I myself was - and I had Da’s looks and fancies. Well… we both had Da’s fancies, but that aside…
The porter didn’t even bother asking me if I wanted a coat as I stepped outside into the blinding glare of a winter afternoon.