Post by sidonie on Mar 19, 2011 8:14:58 GMT 10
Title: Thy Rents
Rating: G
Word Count: 172
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Jon laments the expense of his clothes.
Author's Note: Throughout SMACKDOWN, I'll be posting pieces inspired by quotes and speeches from Shakespeare, because I'm a huge fangirl. They will be for no particular pairing, just whoever seems to fit (though they may be disproportionately J/Z). This series is based on a soliloquy from Henry V, for reasons which should become abundantly clear.
~~~~~~
What are thy rents? what are thy comings in?
Jon sighed, staring morosely at the cloak in his hands. It was of rich blue velvet, worked in silver thread and studded with small, glittering sapphires. A piece of art, incomparably fine. And yet the king held it like he expected the fabric to bite.
“If you don't blink for long enough, perhaps it will put itself on,” Zahir deadpanned. He stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed in an attitude that let the king know he had drifted in his reverie for more time than he had intended.
“Do you know how much things like this cost the kingdom?” the monarch muttered.
The squire raised an indolent eyebrow. “I try not to think on the myriad ways you progressives waste my taxes,” he drawled.
Jon ignored him with the ease of long practice. “And yet it's necessary, to maintain my status as a symbol,” he remarked, mostly to himself. “The nation, personified. Because apparently Tortall would wear expensive cloaks.”
Zahir couldn't help but laugh.
QC by: journeycat
Rating: G
Word Count: 172
Pairing: Jon/Zahir – Team Bend-a-lot
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Jon laments the expense of his clothes.
Author's Note: Throughout SMACKDOWN, I'll be posting pieces inspired by quotes and speeches from Shakespeare, because I'm a huge fangirl. They will be for no particular pairing, just whoever seems to fit (though they may be disproportionately J/Z). This series is based on a soliloquy from Henry V, for reasons which should become abundantly clear.
~~~~~~
What are thy rents? what are thy comings in?
Jon sighed, staring morosely at the cloak in his hands. It was of rich blue velvet, worked in silver thread and studded with small, glittering sapphires. A piece of art, incomparably fine. And yet the king held it like he expected the fabric to bite.
“If you don't blink for long enough, perhaps it will put itself on,” Zahir deadpanned. He stood in the corner of the room, arms crossed in an attitude that let the king know he had drifted in his reverie for more time than he had intended.
“Do you know how much things like this cost the kingdom?” the monarch muttered.
The squire raised an indolent eyebrow. “I try not to think on the myriad ways you progressives waste my taxes,” he drawled.
Jon ignored him with the ease of long practice. “And yet it's necessary, to maintain my status as a symbol,” he remarked, mostly to himself. “The nation, personified. Because apparently Tortall would wear expensive cloaks.”
Zahir couldn't help but laugh.
QC by: journeycat
Expensive blue cloaks, no less. Oh, what a way to use taxes 