[Wild Roses] Sun Queen
Title: Common ground
'Verse/characters: Sun Queen; Arianhrod, Ulysse, Fintain
Prompt: zero_pixel_coun: "The age-old battle of libido versus self-preservation instinct (nooo, not slanted towards anyone in partiiicular, that one... honest...:P predictable, me? never)"
Word Count: 1360 1400
Notes: Well really. Given that prompt, who else would I be writing but the Prince Fintain, in the Sun Queen's Court? (Though this seems to have turned out to be the Arianhrod and Ulysse hour.)
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Arianhrod's brother had taken to following one of the current delegation. Which would have been fine, if his objet d'affection didn't put Arianhrod's mind to fanciful wanderings about nagas. Viper-intensity and all.
The woman was--even to Arianhrod's unimpressed eye--lovely, with olive-wood skin and sleek hair dark as a raven's wings. Intelligent and quiet, content to whisper in her King's ear instead of stealing the center of the room herself, sharp enough to defend herself when Princes came circling past her. That she was tall enough to look directly over Arianhrod's head Arianhrod tried not to hold against her. Almost all of her siblings were that tall or taller.
Including the one currently leaning over her shoulder to steal her mug of tea without so much as a by-your-leave, laughing when she grumbled.
He toasted her with it, and she tried to hook it out of his hands without gesturing towards him. She didn't succeed, but he grinned at her over the lip of the mug, drank a third of the flatlands-harsh brew without wincing, and lowered the cup.
"Bonjour," he said.
"Bonjour, yourself," she replied, then, too-sweetly, "Poor wind today?"
Ulysse grinned at her again, drinking more of her tea and pretending to consider her question as he leaned casually back into the stone wall behind him. "I've seen fairer, but I was actually hoping to see the fireworks."
"Fireworks?" she asked, suspecting what he meant but unwilling to commit to it.
"Fin and the lady Countess," her half-brother confirmed cheerfully. "He's been asking if she'd agree to a meal with him all week, and he's either finally wore her down or she's annoyed enough to agree in the hopes of being able to stab him with a oyster knife."
"If she does I hope she knows she'll have to kiss her King's aspirations farewell," she muttered, irritably twitching her braid to hang neatly down her back. "Mamán would hardly ignore that."
"I don't know, it would be provoked--her majesty might just note it down as a learning experience for Fin." He stroked his chin, two-day's stubbly beard rasped against his palm, then finished off the tea.
"At least he's not chasing his aunts or cousins?" he offered as he let go of the mug, and she couldn't help but blink.
The mug failed to shatter on the floor, and she wondered where he'd learned a trick that light. She could barely feel his hold--and then his words sank in and she frowned. "What?"
"Any leRoux would have hit him with lightning by now," he said as he sent the mug drifting over to the sideboard, set it down with a barely-audible clink. He stuck his hands in his pockets, smiled down at her. "Of course, I'm not entirely certain that would put him off."
"Put me off what?" Fintain demanded, laughing, from the doorway, and Arianhrod couldn't help but throw a small gust of freezing wind at his head. He'd gotten better at getting close to her without letting her know where he was recently. She was tempted to think Ulysse had given him tips, to go with his habit of stealing her tea.
"We might not have been talking about you," she told her little brother--not little at all, not for years, and only taller with the ruffling his hair had gotten from her wind. "You shouldn't presume."
"Oh, are we talking about Dad, then?" Fintain asked cheerfully as he crossed the room and stooped to kiss the top of her head hello. She didn't bother fighting him over it, or stretching up on her toes to try to kiss his cheek hello back. She still hadn't decided if his habit of invading her personal space was leftover pattern from childhood, seeking some favour from her, or actual affectionate truth.
As he straightened up, bumping shoulders with Ulysse, Fintain added "Mamán's about the only one who can keep him from doing anything, and that's only because he's afraid of her."
She snorted laughter, heard Ulysse's deeper voice join hers. "Think he'd forgotten that for a while," she said, throwing an obvious glance up at Ulysse, who chuckled when their eyes met. "She hasn't had occasion to throw power around since--well."
"Good thing she can," Ulysse agreed. "I'd hate to think what a mess Dad might have made otherwise."
"Think you'd have to spend a few months recharting maps," Fintain put in, dragging his hands through his curls to resettle them from a puff of red-gold mess to something that at least looked intentionally mussed. "At the very least. Have either of you seen the delegation yet today?" he tangented, eyes lighting up a little at the thought.
"I'm to sit in on a meeting just before lunch," Arianhrod replied, glancing down at her skirts and irritably twitching one section back where it belonged. Wretched thing liked to cleave layers on her, and the spells that held the abstract jasper-patterns to the cloth had so far resisted her ability to pin the section where it belonged.
"I think Aleron said something about a tour of the harbour," Ulysse mused. "At least, he was growling about tours last night when I saw him in the library, and I can't imagine he'd be riding escort on anyone else at the moment."
Fintain's face fell. "Won't be able to catch them up, then."
Arianhrod scowled, then felt her tongue curling in her mouth, words rising. "You do realise that if she weren't being diplomatic she'd be in head to toe black?"
"It makes it more fun," her brother breathed, grinning, and she would have laughed fit to choke on air in scorn if Ulysse hadn't suddenly stood up a little straighter, eying Fintain in what looked very much like understanding.
"You don't bother chasing storms," he said. The words weren't a question, she noticed, and wondered.
Fintain blinked, grin fading, then shrugged. "I can make my own lightning, if I really need it."
"Not what I was saying," Ulysse corrected. "I go out in rough weather for the rush--I can call up my own winds if I want to, but there's nothing like standing in the face of something bigger than you are, and not knowing how things are going to play out. You don't get that with weather, do you, Fin?"
Fintain shook his head, intense curiousity blooming in his eyes. "You do?"
"Why else would I go sailing when I do?" Ulysse shot back. "But you get that with people--"
"Let's say truth here," Arianhrod put in, sliding her words between Ulysse's breathy pause and Fintain's startled stare, "Not 'people'--you couldn't care less if dangerous men share your space. It's only women you needle."
"Hey," her brother began to protest, looking between her and Ulysse, but broke off when Ulysse grinned at him, bright as the sun reflecting from the harbour.
"Good hunting, brother mine," he said, and clapped Fintain on the shoulder, grin only widening as Fintain stared at him.
"I hate you both," Arianhrod remarked into the silence as Ulysse turned back to her and Fintain looked to her for explanation of their half-brother's newfound insanity. "You shan't find me seeking out ways to make my heart race, and don't expect me to rescue either of you."
Which was a blatant lie and Ulysse knew it. Though he'd never told anyone about the boat he'd lost three winters ago, and she'd never admit how fast she's gotten to him once she heard him screaming her name.
"If I actually want rescuing I've done something wrong," Fintain said, frowning at them, eyes flicking up at down to meet hers and Ulysse's in turn.
"If you show up tomorrow with stab marks and a grin, I don't want to know," she replied archly.
"I do," Ulysse said. Grinned at her scowl. Grinned wider at Fintain's dawning smile. Winced suddenly, then rubbed at his cheeks. "Ow, I've been grinning too much today, you two are making my face hurt."
"I can make other things hurt, if you'd prefer?" Arianhrod asked, raising one hand and calling up a tiny whirlwind in her palm, mimed throwing it at him.
"And with that, I take my leave," Fintain said quickly, "I've breakfast to find and a lovely Countess to chase."
Arianhrod covered her eyes with her free hand as Ulysse roared with laughter. Sometimes she swore she and the twins were the only sane ones.
'Verse/characters: Sun Queen; Arianhrod, Ulysse, Fintain
Prompt: zero_pixel_coun: "The age-old battle of libido versus self-preservation instinct (nooo, not slanted towards anyone in partiiicular, that one... honest...:P predictable, me? never)"
Word Count: 1360 1400
Notes: Well really. Given that prompt, who else would I be writing but the Prince Fintain, in the Sun Queen's Court? (Though this seems to have turned out to be the Arianhrod and Ulysse hour.)
---------
Arianhrod's brother had taken to following one of the current delegation. Which would have been fine, if his objet d'affection didn't put Arianhrod's mind to fanciful wanderings about nagas. Viper-intensity and all.
The woman was--even to Arianhrod's unimpressed eye--lovely, with olive-wood skin and sleek hair dark as a raven's wings. Intelligent and quiet, content to whisper in her King's ear instead of stealing the center of the room herself, sharp enough to defend herself when Princes came circling past her. That she was tall enough to look directly over Arianhrod's head Arianhrod tried not to hold against her. Almost all of her siblings were that tall or taller.
Including the one currently leaning over her shoulder to steal her mug of tea without so much as a by-your-leave, laughing when she grumbled.
He toasted her with it, and she tried to hook it out of his hands without gesturing towards him. She didn't succeed, but he grinned at her over the lip of the mug, drank a third of the flatlands-harsh brew without wincing, and lowered the cup.
"Bonjour," he said.
"Bonjour, yourself," she replied, then, too-sweetly, "Poor wind today?"
Ulysse grinned at her again, drinking more of her tea and pretending to consider her question as he leaned casually back into the stone wall behind him. "I've seen fairer, but I was actually hoping to see the fireworks."
"Fireworks?" she asked, suspecting what he meant but unwilling to commit to it.
"Fin and the lady Countess," her half-brother confirmed cheerfully. "He's been asking if she'd agree to a meal with him all week, and he's either finally wore her down or she's annoyed enough to agree in the hopes of being able to stab him with a oyster knife."
"If she does I hope she knows she'll have to kiss her King's aspirations farewell," she muttered, irritably twitching her braid to hang neatly down her back. "Mamán would hardly ignore that."
"I don't know, it would be provoked--her majesty might just note it down as a learning experience for Fin." He stroked his chin, two-day's stubbly beard rasped against his palm, then finished off the tea.
"At least he's not chasing his aunts or cousins?" he offered as he let go of the mug, and she couldn't help but blink.
The mug failed to shatter on the floor, and she wondered where he'd learned a trick that light. She could barely feel his hold--and then his words sank in and she frowned. "What?"
"Any leRoux would have hit him with lightning by now," he said as he sent the mug drifting over to the sideboard, set it down with a barely-audible clink. He stuck his hands in his pockets, smiled down at her. "Of course, I'm not entirely certain that would put him off."
"Put me off what?" Fintain demanded, laughing, from the doorway, and Arianhrod couldn't help but throw a small gust of freezing wind at his head. He'd gotten better at getting close to her without letting her know where he was recently. She was tempted to think Ulysse had given him tips, to go with his habit of stealing her tea.
"We might not have been talking about you," she told her little brother--not little at all, not for years, and only taller with the ruffling his hair had gotten from her wind. "You shouldn't presume."
"Oh, are we talking about Dad, then?" Fintain asked cheerfully as he crossed the room and stooped to kiss the top of her head hello. She didn't bother fighting him over it, or stretching up on her toes to try to kiss his cheek hello back. She still hadn't decided if his habit of invading her personal space was leftover pattern from childhood, seeking some favour from her, or actual affectionate truth.
As he straightened up, bumping shoulders with Ulysse, Fintain added "Mamán's about the only one who can keep him from doing anything, and that's only because he's afraid of her."
She snorted laughter, heard Ulysse's deeper voice join hers. "Think he'd forgotten that for a while," she said, throwing an obvious glance up at Ulysse, who chuckled when their eyes met. "She hasn't had occasion to throw power around since--well."
"Good thing she can," Ulysse agreed. "I'd hate to think what a mess Dad might have made otherwise."
"Think you'd have to spend a few months recharting maps," Fintain put in, dragging his hands through his curls to resettle them from a puff of red-gold mess to something that at least looked intentionally mussed. "At the very least. Have either of you seen the delegation yet today?" he tangented, eyes lighting up a little at the thought.
"I'm to sit in on a meeting just before lunch," Arianhrod replied, glancing down at her skirts and irritably twitching one section back where it belonged. Wretched thing liked to cleave layers on her, and the spells that held the abstract jasper-patterns to the cloth had so far resisted her ability to pin the section where it belonged.
"I think Aleron said something about a tour of the harbour," Ulysse mused. "At least, he was growling about tours last night when I saw him in the library, and I can't imagine he'd be riding escort on anyone else at the moment."
Fintain's face fell. "Won't be able to catch them up, then."
Arianhrod scowled, then felt her tongue curling in her mouth, words rising. "You do realise that if she weren't being diplomatic she'd be in head to toe black?"
"It makes it more fun," her brother breathed, grinning, and she would have laughed fit to choke on air in scorn if Ulysse hadn't suddenly stood up a little straighter, eying Fintain in what looked very much like understanding.
"You don't bother chasing storms," he said. The words weren't a question, she noticed, and wondered.
Fintain blinked, grin fading, then shrugged. "I can make my own lightning, if I really need it."
"Not what I was saying," Ulysse corrected. "I go out in rough weather for the rush--I can call up my own winds if I want to, but there's nothing like standing in the face of something bigger than you are, and not knowing how things are going to play out. You don't get that with weather, do you, Fin?"
Fintain shook his head, intense curiousity blooming in his eyes. "You do?"
"Why else would I go sailing when I do?" Ulysse shot back. "But you get that with people--"
"Let's say truth here," Arianhrod put in, sliding her words between Ulysse's breathy pause and Fintain's startled stare, "Not 'people'--you couldn't care less if dangerous men share your space. It's only women you needle."
"Hey," her brother began to protest, looking between her and Ulysse, but broke off when Ulysse grinned at him, bright as the sun reflecting from the harbour.
"Good hunting, brother mine," he said, and clapped Fintain on the shoulder, grin only widening as Fintain stared at him.
"I hate you both," Arianhrod remarked into the silence as Ulysse turned back to her and Fintain looked to her for explanation of their half-brother's newfound insanity. "You shan't find me seeking out ways to make my heart race, and don't expect me to rescue either of you."
Which was a blatant lie and Ulysse knew it. Though he'd never told anyone about the boat he'd lost three winters ago, and she'd never admit how fast she's gotten to him once she heard him screaming her name.
"If I actually want rescuing I've done something wrong," Fintain said, frowning at them, eyes flicking up at down to meet hers and Ulysse's in turn.
"If you show up tomorrow with stab marks and a grin, I don't want to know," she replied archly.
"I do," Ulysse said. Grinned at her scowl. Grinned wider at Fintain's dawning smile. Winced suddenly, then rubbed at his cheeks. "Ow, I've been grinning too much today, you two are making my face hurt."
"I can make other things hurt, if you'd prefer?" Arianhrod asked, raising one hand and calling up a tiny whirlwind in her palm, mimed throwing it at him.
"And with that, I take my leave," Fintain said quickly, "I've breakfast to find and a lovely Countess to chase."
Arianhrod covered her eyes with her free hand as Ulysse roared with laughter. Sometimes she swore she and the twins were the only sane ones.