Original: "A Courtesan's Choice." Slash
So far, this themes challenge thing is keeping me on track at least. There are some admittedly weird stories coming out of it, but I think I've finished more short bits in a week than I had in the previous month.
This is theme #2: Fashion.
Summary: Janrel isn't sure what Aldriel's answer will be, but he's sure the courtesan is the only one he wants to ask.
Janrel stared across the table. He usually stared when Aldriel was in a room, but usually he managed to make it a charming sort of stare. He had a feeling that the nicest way to describe himself at the moment was gaping.
Aldriel sank gracefully into his seat, looking coyly up through his lashes at Janrel, a smirk firmly in place. Janrel’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and his lips curled up reluctantly. Aldriel was a rather vain creature, but he was also rather thoroughly justified.
He was dressed tonight in flowing black silk, constellations picked out in silver thread that brought his blue eyes to life, lined strategically with kohl. The dimmed lighting danced off bits of sparkle in his hair and his skin shimmered and Janrel smiled, because Aldriel knew he didn’t have to put in this kind of effort, but he did it anyway.
“I would tell you that you look stunning tonight,” he murmured, lifting his wine glass in salute as Aldriel picked up his own, “but you are already well aware, I am sure.”
“But it is always nice to hear,” came the purred reply. Despite the slightly disingenuous line, the small smile Aldriel directed across the table was sincere and Janrel answered it with one of his own.
He signaled their waiter closer, giving their order without looking at the menu or needing to ask Aldriel. “You are not required to take me out, you know. I am not some damsel for you to woo; I am a courtesan.”
Janrel looked at him in amusement, taking another sip of his wine before answering. “Surely you jest. I had assumed it was coincidence that my purse felt lighter after having seen you.”
Aldriel shot him a wry smile. “You know of what I speak. What point is served by this charade of a courtship?”
For several long moments, Janrel said nothing, just pensively studied the man across from him. His looks would give him away as a courtesan even if his clothes or his manner did not, because that kind of elegance and grace would have been stamped out in any other walk of life.
“Do you remember this place?” he asked suddenly, leaving the question unanswered.
Aldriel didn’t even look around, just directed a soft smile at his napkin. “It is the same place - same table even, I think - that you brought me to, the first night we spent together.”
“You still dress as though you are trying to impress me, though you know I think you breathtaking no matter what you choose to wear,” Janrel said quietly, eyes dark in the dim lighting. He smiled gently as Aldriel flushed slightly, because there was almost nothing more satisfying than making his courtesan blush.
“You like showing me around town, and I like being shown - by you. And I…I cannot bear having people think that you would associate with any person unworthy of your status. You…” For a moment, Janrel would’ve said that Aldriel was getting choked up, but the courtesan quickly composed himself. “You deserve the best,” he finished reservedly.
“I hope you truly mean that.” Aldriel’s eyes looked shadowed as he met Janrel’s eyes. “Because I have been ordered to choose my consort, by my honored father, and I have a question I must ask you.”
The courtesan closed his eyes and Janrel only noticed his shoulders slump slightly because he’d long been tuned to Aldriel’s every move. His voice seemed slightly deeper as he answered tonelessly. “I can, of course, make several recommendations for who might suit you on…on every level.”
Several minutes of silence followed before Aldriel finally opened his eyes, brows furrowed in confusion at Janrel’s stillness and flat look. “You must be the most unobservant courtesan in this city, Dri. My only question in regards to the consortship is: would you be willing?”
“Would…I…” All artifice had fallen away, as Aldriel stared at him, blue eyes wide.
“I do not know why you thought I would want anyone else as my consort. You are the only one and have been for many years. How could you not know? You are the one I want to see wearing my colors.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring inset with the crest of his house.
“I will not give up my silks,” Aldriel warned, even as he took the ring with over-bright eyes.
“I would expect nothing less. I am sure they shall become the new court trend. For me, I do not care what you wear so long as you are mine.” Janrel reached to take Aldriel’s hand, running his thumb over the crest.
His courtesan looked up through his lashes sweetly. “Is that all you desire?”
Janrel smiled. “It is everything.”
This is theme #2: Fashion.
Summary: Janrel isn't sure what Aldriel's answer will be, but he's sure the courtesan is the only one he wants to ask.
Janrel stared across the table. He usually stared when Aldriel was in a room, but usually he managed to make it a charming sort of stare. He had a feeling that the nicest way to describe himself at the moment was gaping.
Aldriel sank gracefully into his seat, looking coyly up through his lashes at Janrel, a smirk firmly in place. Janrel’s mouth snapped shut with a click, and his lips curled up reluctantly. Aldriel was a rather vain creature, but he was also rather thoroughly justified.
He was dressed tonight in flowing black silk, constellations picked out in silver thread that brought his blue eyes to life, lined strategically with kohl. The dimmed lighting danced off bits of sparkle in his hair and his skin shimmered and Janrel smiled, because Aldriel knew he didn’t have to put in this kind of effort, but he did it anyway.
“I would tell you that you look stunning tonight,” he murmured, lifting his wine glass in salute as Aldriel picked up his own, “but you are already well aware, I am sure.”
“But it is always nice to hear,” came the purred reply. Despite the slightly disingenuous line, the small smile Aldriel directed across the table was sincere and Janrel answered it with one of his own.
He signaled their waiter closer, giving their order without looking at the menu or needing to ask Aldriel. “You are not required to take me out, you know. I am not some damsel for you to woo; I am a courtesan.”
Janrel looked at him in amusement, taking another sip of his wine before answering. “Surely you jest. I had assumed it was coincidence that my purse felt lighter after having seen you.”
Aldriel shot him a wry smile. “You know of what I speak. What point is served by this charade of a courtship?”
For several long moments, Janrel said nothing, just pensively studied the man across from him. His looks would give him away as a courtesan even if his clothes or his manner did not, because that kind of elegance and grace would have been stamped out in any other walk of life.
“Do you remember this place?” he asked suddenly, leaving the question unanswered.
Aldriel didn’t even look around, just directed a soft smile at his napkin. “It is the same place - same table even, I think - that you brought me to, the first night we spent together.”
“You still dress as though you are trying to impress me, though you know I think you breathtaking no matter what you choose to wear,” Janrel said quietly, eyes dark in the dim lighting. He smiled gently as Aldriel flushed slightly, because there was almost nothing more satisfying than making his courtesan blush.
“You like showing me around town, and I like being shown - by you. And I…I cannot bear having people think that you would associate with any person unworthy of your status. You…” For a moment, Janrel would’ve said that Aldriel was getting choked up, but the courtesan quickly composed himself. “You deserve the best,” he finished reservedly.
“I hope you truly mean that.” Aldriel’s eyes looked shadowed as he met Janrel’s eyes. “Because I have been ordered to choose my consort, by my honored father, and I have a question I must ask you.”
The courtesan closed his eyes and Janrel only noticed his shoulders slump slightly because he’d long been tuned to Aldriel’s every move. His voice seemed slightly deeper as he answered tonelessly. “I can, of course, make several recommendations for who might suit you on…on every level.”
Several minutes of silence followed before Aldriel finally opened his eyes, brows furrowed in confusion at Janrel’s stillness and flat look. “You must be the most unobservant courtesan in this city, Dri. My only question in regards to the consortship is: would you be willing?”
“Would…I…” All artifice had fallen away, as Aldriel stared at him, blue eyes wide.
“I do not know why you thought I would want anyone else as my consort. You are the only one and have been for many years. How could you not know? You are the one I want to see wearing my colors.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring inset with the crest of his house.
“I will not give up my silks,” Aldriel warned, even as he took the ring with over-bright eyes.
“I would expect nothing less. I am sure they shall become the new court trend. For me, I do not care what you wear so long as you are mine.” Janrel reached to take Aldriel’s hand, running his thumb over the crest.
His courtesan looked up through his lashes sweetly. “Is that all you desire?”
Janrel smiled. “It is everything.”