Post by Rachy on Aug 21, 2009 23:15:35 GMT 10
Title: There's Madness In My Family
Rating: PG-13/R. R to be safe.
Length: 945 words
Category: Tortall
Peculiar Pairing: Raoul/Josiane
Summary: Raoul/Josiane. Set in WWRLM/LR, probably around/after Jon ditches her. I don't know where this came from.
Warning: Suggested/implied sex. Which is why, to be safe, it's R.
---
“There’s madness, in my family, you know.”
He glanced up at her, rolling his eyes from his sprawl on his bed. She smirked prettily, icily down at him, and pressed her nails into his bare chest. He swallowed the yelp of pain, and she silenced his grimace with her lips.
“Really?”
He picked up the empty pitcher, endeavouring to find himself another drink in a vain attempt to forget yet another dalliance with another court lady shunted by Jonathan. It wasn't his fault that they found him when he was drinking. It certainitely wasn't his fault that his friends suggested the ladies his way, either. It wasn’t like he enjoyed it. First the hangover, and then the farewell to the ‘knight who is Prince Jonathan’s friend whom the name of I do not recall’.
“Mmm. Madness. Like howler monkey mad. My family’s nuts.” She giggled. He liked it even less when they were so stone cold drunk that they didn’t keep an eye on their tongue and watch what they said.
“Do you share that same trait?” Her eyes sobered, and she winked wickedly at him, dress straps slipping further down her arms.
“Only sometimes.” He closed his eyes. Lovely. “I can show you, if you’d like. Johnny liked it so much.”
“It’s fine. No. Really, it’s fine. Where were we?”
A round of kisses and tearing at the back of her dress, yanking at the ribbon that held her corset in place. Knocking over the pitcher, and the cup, wine spilling over the table and dripping to the floor, spreading to touch the slightest edges of her abandoned dress. Tugging the ribbon through each lacing of her corset desperately, violently. Her hands in his hair, pulling at the longer strands. She breaks away, and picks up the corset ribbon. Panting, he watches her, trying in vain to get his breath back, as she walks over to his chair and sits in it, interlacing the ribbon through the chair legs. She watches him coyly, beckoning him with her eyes, but to be honest he’d prefer to stay as far away from her as possible.
“My father’s paranoid. He wants power, and he’s paranoid. Isn’t that the strangest thing?” She giggled again, and he wondered again how much she had had to drink before this. He didn’t quite know why Josiane was different, but he could add father issues to their similarities. Josiane’s father was paranoid, and his had too high expectations. Josiane had been jilted by Jonathan, and now he was picking up the pieces again. They both drunk to take away the pain, and they both took comfort in strangers. He sighed and walked over to the chair, picking her up and sitting in the chair, placing her on his lap, and pulling his blanket closer around her. She smiled and twined the ribbon around his neck, tying in a bow and kissing it.
“I told you there was madness in my family.” She sneered, before pulling the ribbon tight, choking him.
As soon as she had yanked it she let it go, and he felt breathless. He was breathless. And she could have just killed him.
He took deeper breaths, suddenly feeling completely sober, and he wondered what he was doing. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, picking her up and placing her on his bed. He covered her with his blankets, before taking another one, and his clothes, and moving to his dressing room.
“Where are you going? Raoul?” The sound of his name made him stop, and look back at her. Her hair, long and blonde, swept past her shoulders in tangled curls, over the blankets which she clutched tightly towards her and she looked vulnerable. He knew that for the first time, it wasn't an act.
“I was only kidding with the ribbon.” She muttered. He glanced between her and his dressing room, torn. He shouldn’t do this. She was a power hungry princess that was crazier than the Graveyard Hag, and it would make far more sense for him to turn and walk away. But that had always been the hardest thing for him to do. Even if she looked like she needed him, she didn’t. He wasn't just someone to use and abuse, even if she was looking at him like that.
“Josiane, we shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.”
“I’ve already been jilted once tonight, and yet you’re going to jilt me again. Is there something wrong with me? A princess isn’t good enough for the ‘King’ of Tortall, not good enough for his best knight, tell me, Raoul of Goldenlake, where is someone I am going to be good enough for? Who are you to decide what’s right for me?” She stormed, throwing aside the covers and jabbing her fingers sharply into his chest. She didn’t look so vulnerable any more, although he thought she was, even more. He looked down, meeting her icy eyes, that were filling with tears. He didn’t know whether he wanted this or not. They stood, gazing at each other for several minutes, while his mind hovered between two choices. His fingers brushed hers, and she twined her fingers through his, holding his hand. She was using him, he was using her. There wasn't a difference between them. She tugged his clothes out of his grip, dropping them onto the chair, and pulled her hand free, tugging the blanket away from him. It trailed behind her on the floor as she kept her eyes on him, walking towards his bed. He followed her every movement.
---
He woke the next morning. Alone.
A corset ribbon was tied around his neck.
Rating: PG-13/R. R to be safe.
Length: 945 words
Category: Tortall
Peculiar Pairing: Raoul/Josiane
Summary: Raoul/Josiane. Set in WWRLM/LR, probably around/after Jon ditches her. I don't know where this came from.
Warning: Suggested/implied sex. Which is why, to be safe, it's R.
---
“There’s madness, in my family, you know.”
He glanced up at her, rolling his eyes from his sprawl on his bed. She smirked prettily, icily down at him, and pressed her nails into his bare chest. He swallowed the yelp of pain, and she silenced his grimace with her lips.
“Really?”
He picked up the empty pitcher, endeavouring to find himself another drink in a vain attempt to forget yet another dalliance with another court lady shunted by Jonathan. It wasn't his fault that they found him when he was drinking. It certainitely wasn't his fault that his friends suggested the ladies his way, either. It wasn’t like he enjoyed it. First the hangover, and then the farewell to the ‘knight who is Prince Jonathan’s friend whom the name of I do not recall’.
“Mmm. Madness. Like howler monkey mad. My family’s nuts.” She giggled. He liked it even less when they were so stone cold drunk that they didn’t keep an eye on their tongue and watch what they said.
“Do you share that same trait?” Her eyes sobered, and she winked wickedly at him, dress straps slipping further down her arms.
“Only sometimes.” He closed his eyes. Lovely. “I can show you, if you’d like. Johnny liked it so much.”
“It’s fine. No. Really, it’s fine. Where were we?”
A round of kisses and tearing at the back of her dress, yanking at the ribbon that held her corset in place. Knocking over the pitcher, and the cup, wine spilling over the table and dripping to the floor, spreading to touch the slightest edges of her abandoned dress. Tugging the ribbon through each lacing of her corset desperately, violently. Her hands in his hair, pulling at the longer strands. She breaks away, and picks up the corset ribbon. Panting, he watches her, trying in vain to get his breath back, as she walks over to his chair and sits in it, interlacing the ribbon through the chair legs. She watches him coyly, beckoning him with her eyes, but to be honest he’d prefer to stay as far away from her as possible.
“My father’s paranoid. He wants power, and he’s paranoid. Isn’t that the strangest thing?” She giggled again, and he wondered again how much she had had to drink before this. He didn’t quite know why Josiane was different, but he could add father issues to their similarities. Josiane’s father was paranoid, and his had too high expectations. Josiane had been jilted by Jonathan, and now he was picking up the pieces again. They both drunk to take away the pain, and they both took comfort in strangers. He sighed and walked over to the chair, picking her up and sitting in the chair, placing her on his lap, and pulling his blanket closer around her. She smiled and twined the ribbon around his neck, tying in a bow and kissing it.
“I told you there was madness in my family.” She sneered, before pulling the ribbon tight, choking him.
As soon as she had yanked it she let it go, and he felt breathless. He was breathless. And she could have just killed him.
He took deeper breaths, suddenly feeling completely sober, and he wondered what he was doing. He wrapped his arms tighter around her, picking her up and placing her on his bed. He covered her with his blankets, before taking another one, and his clothes, and moving to his dressing room.
“Where are you going? Raoul?” The sound of his name made him stop, and look back at her. Her hair, long and blonde, swept past her shoulders in tangled curls, over the blankets which she clutched tightly towards her and she looked vulnerable. He knew that for the first time, it wasn't an act.
“I was only kidding with the ribbon.” She muttered. He glanced between her and his dressing room, torn. He shouldn’t do this. She was a power hungry princess that was crazier than the Graveyard Hag, and it would make far more sense for him to turn and walk away. But that had always been the hardest thing for him to do. Even if she looked like she needed him, she didn’t. He wasn't just someone to use and abuse, even if she was looking at him like that.
“Josiane, we shouldn’t do this. It’s not right.”
“I’ve already been jilted once tonight, and yet you’re going to jilt me again. Is there something wrong with me? A princess isn’t good enough for the ‘King’ of Tortall, not good enough for his best knight, tell me, Raoul of Goldenlake, where is someone I am going to be good enough for? Who are you to decide what’s right for me?” She stormed, throwing aside the covers and jabbing her fingers sharply into his chest. She didn’t look so vulnerable any more, although he thought she was, even more. He looked down, meeting her icy eyes, that were filling with tears. He didn’t know whether he wanted this or not. They stood, gazing at each other for several minutes, while his mind hovered between two choices. His fingers brushed hers, and she twined her fingers through his, holding his hand. She was using him, he was using her. There wasn't a difference between them. She tugged his clothes out of his grip, dropping them onto the chair, and pulled her hand free, tugging the blanket away from him. It trailed behind her on the floor as she kept her eyes on him, walking towards his bed. He followed her every movement.
---
He woke the next morning. Alone.
A corset ribbon was tied around his neck.
Her being nuts, his drinking, and that it's them. Just wonderful! ♥
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!