Post by Katty on Aug 18, 2009 0:25:47 GMT 10
Title: Conte Blue
Rating: G
Prompt: #9
Summary: The Conte boys have similar tastes in many things. This is just a fun fic, hastily done and unbetaed
A/N: Ended up being way longer than expected, oops!
Liam checked his appearance over a final time. He was wearing a tunic of his favourite Conte blue, over a silver shirt and matching hose. The tunic accentuated his blue eyes and combined with his new black moustache (grown with only a little magical aid) to make him look rather dashing – he definitely did blue better than his father. He was pleased to notice a few curious stares from men and women alike as he strutted towards the ballroom.
As he entered the ballroom and approached his family, a quiet settled over those close by. Assuming they were left speechless by his newfound maturity, Liam swept into a deep bow in front of his parents. “Good evening Your Majesties.” He greeted them loudly.
Jonathan raised both his eyebrows, but remained strangely silent. Thayet covered her mouth with her hand, probably overcome with emotion. Jasson, standing slightly behind their mother, erupted in hysterical laughter, quietened only by a swift kick from Lianne, who was struggling to keep her face straight. Liam ignored them, disdainful.
Vania was the first to speak. “You look so dashing Liam,” she declared loudly. “Don’t you agree, Roald?”
A man close-by turned to face them. Roald looked Liam up and down, and made an embarrassed sort-of cough. Jasson snickered loudly.
Suddenly, realisation dawned on Liam. Roald was dressed in a silvery shirt and hose, covered by a tunic of Conte blue. His black hair was combed back, and his moustache (grown naturally, and lacking the patchiness of Liam’s) was neatly trimmed. At roughly the same height, they could have almost passed for twins.
Liam flushed with anger. “You are such an ass Roald! Stop hogging blue! It’s not yours alone! You’re not King yet.”
The outburst was all it took for Jasson and Vania to collapse in a fit of giggles. Thayet hid a smile, replying seriously, “Liam, I think there’s more than enough blue to go around. If you’re concerned, perhaps you two could negotiate some sort of uh, roster-”
“In the war chamber!” burst out Vania, dissolving into another fit of giggles.
“No, challenge each other to a duel!” interrupted Jasson. “Battle to the death! That will solve the problem once and for all.”
“There will be none of that.” Jonathan quietened his two youngest children with a look.
“Yeah, because Liam would probably lose anyway.” Jasson muttered, straightening his tunic. He was wearing his knight master’s colours of white and pale grey, and was (thankfully) yet to encounter the Conte obsession with blue.
Liam glared at his younger brother. “Shut up Jasson.” He snapped. “You look like an overstuffed goose. Better hide from the cook, or he might try to carve you up.”
Jasson smirked. “At least I didn’t try to glue hair to my-.”
At this point Lianne intervened and clamped a hand over Jasson’s mouth. “If you go change now, you won’t miss much dancing.” Lianne said quietly. She smiled reassuringly at him, keeping a firm grip on their brother so he couldn’t whatever he had to say.
Grateful, Liam took the opportunity to exit. As he headed to his rooms, he plotted his revenge. After discarding several plans, he finally decided that when he returned to the ballroom he’d weasel out of Lianne the identity of whichever lady Jasson was currently sighing over. Then, he’s make sure to bed her before the night was through.
After all, the Conte boys had a similar taste in clothes; why not women too?
Rating: G
Prompt: #9
Summary: The Conte boys have similar tastes in many things. This is just a fun fic, hastily done and unbetaed
A/N: Ended up being way longer than expected, oops!
- - -
Liam checked his appearance over a final time. He was wearing a tunic of his favourite Conte blue, over a silver shirt and matching hose. The tunic accentuated his blue eyes and combined with his new black moustache (grown with only a little magical aid) to make him look rather dashing – he definitely did blue better than his father. He was pleased to notice a few curious stares from men and women alike as he strutted towards the ballroom.
As he entered the ballroom and approached his family, a quiet settled over those close by. Assuming they were left speechless by his newfound maturity, Liam swept into a deep bow in front of his parents. “Good evening Your Majesties.” He greeted them loudly.
Jonathan raised both his eyebrows, but remained strangely silent. Thayet covered her mouth with her hand, probably overcome with emotion. Jasson, standing slightly behind their mother, erupted in hysterical laughter, quietened only by a swift kick from Lianne, who was struggling to keep her face straight. Liam ignored them, disdainful.
Vania was the first to speak. “You look so dashing Liam,” she declared loudly. “Don’t you agree, Roald?”
A man close-by turned to face them. Roald looked Liam up and down, and made an embarrassed sort-of cough. Jasson snickered loudly.
Suddenly, realisation dawned on Liam. Roald was dressed in a silvery shirt and hose, covered by a tunic of Conte blue. His black hair was combed back, and his moustache (grown naturally, and lacking the patchiness of Liam’s) was neatly trimmed. At roughly the same height, they could have almost passed for twins.
Liam flushed with anger. “You are such an ass Roald! Stop hogging blue! It’s not yours alone! You’re not King yet.”
The outburst was all it took for Jasson and Vania to collapse in a fit of giggles. Thayet hid a smile, replying seriously, “Liam, I think there’s more than enough blue to go around. If you’re concerned, perhaps you two could negotiate some sort of uh, roster-”
“In the war chamber!” burst out Vania, dissolving into another fit of giggles.
“No, challenge each other to a duel!” interrupted Jasson. “Battle to the death! That will solve the problem once and for all.”
“There will be none of that.” Jonathan quietened his two youngest children with a look.
“Yeah, because Liam would probably lose anyway.” Jasson muttered, straightening his tunic. He was wearing his knight master’s colours of white and pale grey, and was (thankfully) yet to encounter the Conte obsession with blue.
Liam glared at his younger brother. “Shut up Jasson.” He snapped. “You look like an overstuffed goose. Better hide from the cook, or he might try to carve you up.”
Jasson smirked. “At least I didn’t try to glue hair to my-.”
At this point Lianne intervened and clamped a hand over Jasson’s mouth. “If you go change now, you won’t miss much dancing.” Lianne said quietly. She smiled reassuringly at him, keeping a firm grip on their brother so he couldn’t whatever he had to say.
Grateful, Liam took the opportunity to exit. As he headed to his rooms, he plotted his revenge. After discarding several plans, he finally decided that when he returned to the ballroom he’d weasel out of Lianne the identity of whichever lady Jasson was currently sighing over. Then, he’s make sure to bed her before the night was through.
After all, the Conte boys had a similar taste in clothes; why not women too?
Omg, this is so cute! And the bickering! And Liam!! Very similar taste, indeed. ♥
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!