Post by Kit on Mar 4, 2010 13:22:32 GMT 10
Title: King's Champion (1)
Rating: PG
Length: 368
Round: 2/D
Competitor: Alanna
Summary: They hear each other speak, but sometimes it is difficult to listen.
“Sire.”
“Honestly, Alanna, don’t call me—“
“You never appreciate it when I call you an overblown, pustule-ridden ass, sire. Not even in private, sire. Some things are private, s—”
“Lioness.”
The King’s Champion glared up at her liege, but she stopped talking.
“For someone who is,” he coughed, with the sort of learned delicacy that made his friend want to gather up any of the ornaments or small items of furniture around the room and jam them over his head. “No longer fifteen, you’re still very good at acting like a child.”
Alanna snorted. “Why fifteen?”
“Excuse me?”
Her face, as she leant forward in her chair, toying with the tassel on the edge of a tablecloth, was serene. “Why, precisely, fifteen?”
Jon groaned. Alanna ignored him.
"You know full well I wasn’t doing anything like this at fifteen. Seventeen, perhaps,” her eyes glinted. “I recall a lot of gasping and adoration at seventeen, and regret not one tiny, inappropriate bit of it, but even if you amend your words, it’s still not quite—“
“That is nothing like what is happen now!”
The King was, delightfully, a little flushed, the hectic red complimenting his hair and beard. “Honestly, Alanna. You’ve heard the gossip.” He stopped
“Careful, sire,” she said sweetly. “The last time you started speaking that way, we didn’t speak for two years afterward.”
“Only because you run whenever there’s—“
No. Not time for that conversation. He could breathe as they stared at each other over that particular waste. Just one snap from her, and they would both lose. She shook herself visibly, closed her eyes.
“I don’t care about any gossip, Jon.” Her hand held up in a list, she continued. “George doesn’t care. He is a wicked encouragement. My children, before you dare to bring them into this, have their own lives. And, love,” her voice was steady, too steady for him. He wanted to shout to bring her back into a shape he understood. The endearment cut a deal more than overblown pustule-ridden ass.
“You’re right, “ she said. “If Kel and I are fuelling gossip, this is nothing like when I was seventeen."
"Alanna."
"And stop looking to find out.“
Rating: PG
Length: 368
Round: 2/D
Competitor: Alanna
Summary: They hear each other speak, but sometimes it is difficult to listen.
“Sire.”
“Honestly, Alanna, don’t call me—“
“You never appreciate it when I call you an overblown, pustule-ridden ass, sire. Not even in private, sire. Some things are private, s—”
“Lioness.”
The King’s Champion glared up at her liege, but she stopped talking.
“For someone who is,” he coughed, with the sort of learned delicacy that made his friend want to gather up any of the ornaments or small items of furniture around the room and jam them over his head. “No longer fifteen, you’re still very good at acting like a child.”
Alanna snorted. “Why fifteen?”
“Excuse me?”
Her face, as she leant forward in her chair, toying with the tassel on the edge of a tablecloth, was serene. “Why, precisely, fifteen?”
Jon groaned. Alanna ignored him.
"You know full well I wasn’t doing anything like this at fifteen. Seventeen, perhaps,” her eyes glinted. “I recall a lot of gasping and adoration at seventeen, and regret not one tiny, inappropriate bit of it, but even if you amend your words, it’s still not quite—“
“That is nothing like what is happen now!”
The King was, delightfully, a little flushed, the hectic red complimenting his hair and beard. “Honestly, Alanna. You’ve heard the gossip.” He stopped
“Careful, sire,” she said sweetly. “The last time you started speaking that way, we didn’t speak for two years afterward.”
“Only because you run whenever there’s—“
No. Not time for that conversation. He could breathe as they stared at each other over that particular waste. Just one snap from her, and they would both lose. She shook herself visibly, closed her eyes.
“I don’t care about any gossip, Jon.” Her hand held up in a list, she continued. “George doesn’t care. He is a wicked encouragement. My children, before you dare to bring them into this, have their own lives. And, love,” her voice was steady, too steady for him. He wanted to shout to bring her back into a shape he understood. The endearment cut a deal more than overblown pustule-ridden ass.
“You’re right, “ she said. “If Kel and I are fuelling gossip, this is nothing like when I was seventeen."
"Alanna."
"And stop looking to find out.“
I like that Alanna's calling him "love" is a deeper insult.
Maybe once we'd have seen it during Smackdown!