Post by Muse on Apr 7, 2011 10:00:12 GMT 10
Title: Queens
Rating: PG
Word Count: 319
Pairing: Regicide (Delia/Josiane)
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Delia is forced to watch her monarchs at every ball and event, but she isn't forced to like them.
Delia sneered elegantly as her monarchs ascended the dais and turned to face the court. Jon, upright and noble as ever, stood before the throne, and to his left, down one level, Josiane gracefully swept her skirts in a crescent before taking her seat.
Precious. Mirth bubbled up in Delia’s throat at the sight before her.
She was winning.
“Lady Delia,” Roger’s smooth voice greeted her, and Delia turned.
“Your Grace.” Delia gave him her lowest curtsy. He extended his hand, and she brushed her lips gently across the back of it.
“You seem satisfied,” he noted, glancing briefly at his cousin.
“I am,” Delia agreed daintily, following Roger’s gaze to the newly wed monarch. Jonathan and Josiane made a pretty picture together, gold and blue…if one ignored the greedy, manic glint in Josiane’s eyes as she looked to her husband.
“Shall we dance?” Roger offered his arm and surprised at the request, Delia took it; she wanted to make the most of Roger’s good mood. One never knew when the mysterious disappearance of the Lioness would cease to amuse him.
Josiane cornered Delia after the dance ended.
“Don’t think that I don’t see you,” the blonde hissed, her vague features all sharp edges of hatred. “I know you’re up to something.”
Delia sniffed delicately. “You must be imagining things, Princess.”
Josiane recoiled as if struck, and Delia laughed.
“Its over, Delia, and I’ve won. I married the king. You lost.” Josiane spat at Delia, who only waved her fingers prettily.
“He still hasn’t made you his Queen, your highness.”
“I’m closer than you’ll ever be.” Josiane’s hands were clenched now, and her reddened lips twisted into a grimace; Delia wondered how she had ever been able to convince the Court, much less Jon, of the Rittevon Princess’ sanity.
“You keep telling yourself that, dear,” Delia agreed.
She didn’t have to look around to feel Roger’s eyes on her.
QC by: journeycat
Rating: PG
Word Count: 319
Pairing: Regicide (Delia/Josiane)
Round/Fight: 1/H
Summary: Delia is forced to watch her monarchs at every ball and event, but she isn't forced to like them.
Delia sneered elegantly as her monarchs ascended the dais and turned to face the court. Jon, upright and noble as ever, stood before the throne, and to his left, down one level, Josiane gracefully swept her skirts in a crescent before taking her seat.
Precious. Mirth bubbled up in Delia’s throat at the sight before her.
She was winning.
“Lady Delia,” Roger’s smooth voice greeted her, and Delia turned.
“Your Grace.” Delia gave him her lowest curtsy. He extended his hand, and she brushed her lips gently across the back of it.
“You seem satisfied,” he noted, glancing briefly at his cousin.
“I am,” Delia agreed daintily, following Roger’s gaze to the newly wed monarch. Jonathan and Josiane made a pretty picture together, gold and blue…if one ignored the greedy, manic glint in Josiane’s eyes as she looked to her husband.
“Shall we dance?” Roger offered his arm and surprised at the request, Delia took it; she wanted to make the most of Roger’s good mood. One never knew when the mysterious disappearance of the Lioness would cease to amuse him.
Josiane cornered Delia after the dance ended.
“Don’t think that I don’t see you,” the blonde hissed, her vague features all sharp edges of hatred. “I know you’re up to something.”
Delia sniffed delicately. “You must be imagining things, Princess.”
Josiane recoiled as if struck, and Delia laughed.
“Its over, Delia, and I’ve won. I married the king. You lost.” Josiane spat at Delia, who only waved her fingers prettily.
“He still hasn’t made you his Queen, your highness.”
“I’m closer than you’ll ever be.” Josiane’s hands were clenched now, and her reddened lips twisted into a grimace; Delia wondered how she had ever been able to convince the Court, much less Jon, of the Rittevon Princess’ sanity.
“You keep telling yourself that, dear,” Delia agreed.
She didn’t have to look around to feel Roger’s eyes on her.
QC by: journeycat