Post by rainstormamaya on Mar 13, 2010 3:42:49 GMT 10
Titles: That’s Your Royal Highness To You
Rating: PG-13 (warning for innuendo and suggestiveness!)
Length: 886
Competitor: Vania
Round/Fight: 2/C
Summary: Kel has a very surreal morning.
A/N: I once speculated on what would happen if Kat’s version of Vania met my version of Vania: this is the result. Warning: this is crack of the highest order! My heartiest apologies to Kat and everyone foolish enough to read this...
******
Kel was never certain whether it was the K’miri war cry, the high-pitched shriek, or the sound of someone hitting the floor hard with accompanying unladylike grunt that woke her up. Possibly a combination of all three.
Either way, she bolted upright in bed, grabbing at the sheet which threatened to slide off and expose her, and looked blearily at the two young women on her floor. One was clearly recognisable as her lover. The problem was, so was the other.
Kel stared from one to the other, cataloguing differences. Vania, her Vania, was pinning the... other woman... to the floor. Vania was half-dressed in woollen hose and a breastband, her shirt and tunic crumpled on the floor where Kel had dropped them the previous night, while the other woman was fully dressed in a purple Court gown of unusually slinky design. Vania’s hair was loose, cut short, waves tumbling around her head; the other woman’s was artfully pinned up, a silk fake flower tucked into the delicately disarranged locks. Vania had barely woken, and had probably done nothing more than splash water over her face before going in search of her clothing; the other woman was wide awake, and wearing full makeup, a little the worse for wear (or kissing, depending on how much you read into the smudged lip-paint.) Apart from that, some miscellaneous scars on her Vania, and her Vania’s better muscle tone, they were identical to the last detail.
Kel rubbed a hand over her face, screwing her eyes shut, and opened them again. Unfortunately, the whole scene was still there. “Vania?” she asked plaintively. “What’s the matter?”
“Kel, this woman broke into our chambers,” her Vania said tightly.
“Show proper respect when you speak to me, Lady Knight,” the other woman snapped. She spoke in a perfect, refined Court accent – too perfect, really – while Vania’s consonants had had the corners rubbed off them by constant association with her Rider Group.
“Kel, get up, put a shirt on and help me throw her out,” Vania demanded, ignoring her.
The other woman gave an outraged squeak as Kel began to oblige, keeping the sheet firmly tucked around her for modesty’s sake. “And just who do you think you are? I am Princess Vania, youngest daughter of His Majesty Jonathan of Conté! Get your fi-”
Involuntarily, Kel dropped her sheet; hastily, she grabbed at it.
“Bollocks,” Vania said succinctly.
“No, buttocks, I rather think,” the other woman said in a tone of interest. “My, my, my. Lady Knight, I never knew you had such a nice backside.”
Kel gritted her teeth, refusing to blush, and hiked the sheet up further. Where was that bloody shirt?
“Good legs,” the other woman remarked. “Turn round and let’s-“
Vania spat in her face, earning herself an outraged yell and attempted bite. “Mind your manners, mistress,” Vania said grimly, “or we’ll strip you down before we hand you over to the Palace Guard.”
“The Palace Guard are, on the whole, not bad-looking,” the other woman informed her. “And the captain is really quite yummy. I’ll just throw myself on his mercy and spend an enjoyable rest of the night there. Such a punishment... hurry up with that shirt, Lady Knight.”
Rest of the night? Kel peeked out of the shutters. Oh, Goddess have mercy, it couldn’t be more than three bells before dawn. She’d been hoping for some sleep.
“See how much you like a freezing cold rest of the night in a cell,” Vania corrected her. “I’ll see you locked in personally!”
“Ohh,” the other woman pouted. “Can’t you be locked in with me? It may take some time for my father to realise that I’ve been incarcerated under false pretences, and you look like exactly my kind of amusement... er... what’s your name?”
“Vania of Conté,” Vania replied, grinning nastily at her. “Your royal highness to you.”
The other woman rolled her eyes. “Far be it from me to correct your delusions. Well. your royal highness, I completely understand if you don’t want to supervise my semi-naked captivity in a nasty, cold, uncomfortable jail cell. I myself would shrink from it. But if you’re really keen on stripping me down, I don’t see why the venue needs changing. If you ask me, the only thing that needs changing here is the lady knight’s state of dress; a shirt is definitely too much. And, you know, I’m sure she has a few inhibitions that could do with... crushing. Very... thoroughly.”
Kel felt she was losing control of this situation.
“That is-“ Vania began, sounding distinctly interested.
“Absolutely out of the question!” Kel interrupted firmly, tugging a pair of breeches and some boots on hastily and grabbing a couple of scarves from Vania’s extensive collection - a Carthaki fashion, they were thin, silky and surprisingly tough. “Vania, help me a minute.”
“No! Don’t you dare!” the other woman (Kel refused to think of her as Vania) shouted, and she struggled, but Kel and Vania between them managed to get her fairly well tied up. Kel slung her over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Go back to bed,” she told Vania. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Mm,” Vania said, her eyes running appreciatively over the bound form on Kel’s shoulder. “Bring the scarves back, won’t you?”
Rating: PG-13 (warning for innuendo and suggestiveness!)
Length: 886
Competitor: Vania
Round/Fight: 2/C
Summary: Kel has a very surreal morning.
A/N: I once speculated on what would happen if Kat’s version of Vania met my version of Vania: this is the result. Warning: this is crack of the highest order! My heartiest apologies to Kat and everyone foolish enough to read this...
******
Kel was never certain whether it was the K’miri war cry, the high-pitched shriek, or the sound of someone hitting the floor hard with accompanying unladylike grunt that woke her up. Possibly a combination of all three.
Either way, she bolted upright in bed, grabbing at the sheet which threatened to slide off and expose her, and looked blearily at the two young women on her floor. One was clearly recognisable as her lover. The problem was, so was the other.
Kel stared from one to the other, cataloguing differences. Vania, her Vania, was pinning the... other woman... to the floor. Vania was half-dressed in woollen hose and a breastband, her shirt and tunic crumpled on the floor where Kel had dropped them the previous night, while the other woman was fully dressed in a purple Court gown of unusually slinky design. Vania’s hair was loose, cut short, waves tumbling around her head; the other woman’s was artfully pinned up, a silk fake flower tucked into the delicately disarranged locks. Vania had barely woken, and had probably done nothing more than splash water over her face before going in search of her clothing; the other woman was wide awake, and wearing full makeup, a little the worse for wear (or kissing, depending on how much you read into the smudged lip-paint.) Apart from that, some miscellaneous scars on her Vania, and her Vania’s better muscle tone, they were identical to the last detail.
Kel rubbed a hand over her face, screwing her eyes shut, and opened them again. Unfortunately, the whole scene was still there. “Vania?” she asked plaintively. “What’s the matter?”
“Kel, this woman broke into our chambers,” her Vania said tightly.
“Show proper respect when you speak to me, Lady Knight,” the other woman snapped. She spoke in a perfect, refined Court accent – too perfect, really – while Vania’s consonants had had the corners rubbed off them by constant association with her Rider Group.
“Kel, get up, put a shirt on and help me throw her out,” Vania demanded, ignoring her.
The other woman gave an outraged squeak as Kel began to oblige, keeping the sheet firmly tucked around her for modesty’s sake. “And just who do you think you are? I am Princess Vania, youngest daughter of His Majesty Jonathan of Conté! Get your fi-”
Involuntarily, Kel dropped her sheet; hastily, she grabbed at it.
“Bollocks,” Vania said succinctly.
“No, buttocks, I rather think,” the other woman said in a tone of interest. “My, my, my. Lady Knight, I never knew you had such a nice backside.”
Kel gritted her teeth, refusing to blush, and hiked the sheet up further. Where was that bloody shirt?
“Good legs,” the other woman remarked. “Turn round and let’s-“
Vania spat in her face, earning herself an outraged yell and attempted bite. “Mind your manners, mistress,” Vania said grimly, “or we’ll strip you down before we hand you over to the Palace Guard.”
“The Palace Guard are, on the whole, not bad-looking,” the other woman informed her. “And the captain is really quite yummy. I’ll just throw myself on his mercy and spend an enjoyable rest of the night there. Such a punishment... hurry up with that shirt, Lady Knight.”
Rest of the night? Kel peeked out of the shutters. Oh, Goddess have mercy, it couldn’t be more than three bells before dawn. She’d been hoping for some sleep.
“See how much you like a freezing cold rest of the night in a cell,” Vania corrected her. “I’ll see you locked in personally!”
“Ohh,” the other woman pouted. “Can’t you be locked in with me? It may take some time for my father to realise that I’ve been incarcerated under false pretences, and you look like exactly my kind of amusement... er... what’s your name?”
“Vania of Conté,” Vania replied, grinning nastily at her. “Your royal highness to you.”
The other woman rolled her eyes. “Far be it from me to correct your delusions. Well. your royal highness, I completely understand if you don’t want to supervise my semi-naked captivity in a nasty, cold, uncomfortable jail cell. I myself would shrink from it. But if you’re really keen on stripping me down, I don’t see why the venue needs changing. If you ask me, the only thing that needs changing here is the lady knight’s state of dress; a shirt is definitely too much. And, you know, I’m sure she has a few inhibitions that could do with... crushing. Very... thoroughly.”
Kel felt she was losing control of this situation.
“That is-“ Vania began, sounding distinctly interested.
“Absolutely out of the question!” Kel interrupted firmly, tugging a pair of breeches and some boots on hastily and grabbing a couple of scarves from Vania’s extensive collection - a Carthaki fashion, they were thin, silky and surprisingly tough. “Vania, help me a minute.”
“No! Don’t you dare!” the other woman (Kel refused to think of her as Vania) shouted, and she struggled, but Kel and Vania between them managed to get her fairly well tied up. Kel slung her over her shoulder in a fireman’s lift.
“Go back to bed,” she told Vania. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”
“Mm,” Vania said, her eyes running appreciatively over the bound form on Kel’s shoulder. “Bring the scarves back, won’t you?”