Prompter: Daddy (he is a bad man. HE KNOWS THINGS AND HE IS EXPLOITING IT) Prompt: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dhD_GZcFDI A/N: Don't ask how this ficlet connects to the video, it doesn't. Or hell it doesn't even really connect to the rough translation of lyrics Rishi sent me BUT IT DOES CONNECT TO A LONGER I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THAT RISHI KNEW ABOUT AND HE IS A BASTARD! NOW HAVE SOME RAJ-ERA R/J /ollies into the sun/
She watched the Englishmen marching into her home, and endless stream of red coats with white sashes, shiny brass buttons and polished rifles. Their faces, hard and unreadable, were flushing like pink orchids under the noonday sun. They marched in perfect lines, their backs straight and their gazes forward, ignoring the people they passed in the streets.
Rajani watched them with narrowed eyes, her face half hidden by the pallu she had draped over her head like a veil, covering her long braid. She shifted uncomfortably as she watched the soldiers, her worry causing a deep crease between her brows. They would be trouble, every last one of them. Of that she had no doubt, and anger burned hot in her belly as she watched the parade of foreigners.
She waited, as did most everyone in her small town, the thump of the soldiers footfalls dwindled as the officers came next, sitting tall upon their horses. These men looked down at the people nearest them, eyes cold and hateful, and Rajani found herself hating them all the more for their pride and distain.
Blinking against the glare off polished metal, Rajani found herself no longer looking at a hard face or blur of crimson red, instead she staring into curious eyes that reminded her of the tiny kanpet blooms that trailed behind her grandmother’s house when she was a child, as blue as a summer sky.
The eyes belonged to a young officer riding a stark white stallion, his face was smooth and his high cheeks were unmarred by a sunburned flush. He had a long nose and full lips, and as watched her his brows knitted together. He urged his horse a little closer to the clutch of women she stood with, and he doffed his hat at them, never taking his eyes from Rajani.
“Back in formation, Jacobs,” his commander barked. The man was pudgy and sweaty and the young officer hardly spared him a glance, but did as he was told. He rode part way down the road, keeping close to his contingent, but before he was gone completely he glanced back over his shoulder one last time at Rajani.
She knew, deep within the very marrow of her bones, that that young officer would be the most troublesome of all.
Prompt: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dhD_GZcFDI
A/N: Don't ask how this ficlet connects to the video, it doesn't. Or hell it doesn't even really connect to the rough translation of lyrics Rishi sent me BUT IT DOES CONNECT TO A LONGER I HAVE BEEN PLANNING THAT RISHI KNEW ABOUT AND HE IS A BASTARD! NOW HAVE SOME RAJ-ERA R/J /ollies into the sun/
She watched the Englishmen marching into her home, and endless stream of red coats with white sashes, shiny brass buttons and polished rifles. Their faces, hard and unreadable, were flushing like pink orchids under the noonday sun. They marched in perfect lines, their backs straight and their gazes forward, ignoring the people they passed in the streets.
Rajani watched them with narrowed eyes, her face half hidden by the pallu she had draped over her head like a veil, covering her long braid. She shifted uncomfortably as she watched the soldiers, her worry causing a deep crease between her brows. They would be trouble, every last one of them. Of that she had no doubt, and anger burned hot in her belly as she watched the parade of foreigners.
She waited, as did most everyone in her small town, the thump of the soldiers footfalls dwindled as the officers came next, sitting tall upon their horses. These men looked down at the people nearest them, eyes cold and hateful, and Rajani found herself hating them all the more for their pride and distain.
Blinking against the glare off polished metal, Rajani found herself no longer looking at a hard face or blur of crimson red, instead she staring into curious eyes that reminded her of the tiny kanpet blooms that trailed behind her grandmother’s house when she was a child, as blue as a summer sky.
The eyes belonged to a young officer riding a stark white stallion, his face was smooth and his high cheeks were unmarred by a sunburned flush. He had a long nose and full lips, and as watched her his brows knitted together. He urged his horse a little closer to the clutch of women she stood with, and he doffed his hat at them, never taking his eyes from Rajani.
“Back in formation, Jacobs,” his commander barked. The man was pudgy and sweaty and the young officer hardly spared him a glance, but did as he was told. He rode part way down the road, keeping close to his contingent, but before he was gone completely he glanced back over his shoulder one last time at Rajani.
She knew, deep within the very marrow of her bones, that that young officer would be the most troublesome of all.
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