Post by Shhasow on Mar 20, 2011 0:37:29 GMT 10
Title: Voice Lessons (12)
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 399
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Zahir has an odd lesson. Rating for light lewd language. With apologies to Pat and his amazing witty writing, I am forced to admit that the brilliance of the last line is not mine, merely his with a few slight alterations. The paragraph before is also based off one in The Wise Man’s Fear, though heavily changed.
Previous Chapter Chapter Eleven
“There are many mysteries in the world, squire. Name one.”
Zahir bit back his first reaction - how a crazy man managed to become both Voice and King - and thought for a second. “The existence of immortals.”
Jonathan shook his head and perched himself on the table Zahir was using for his books. “Nothing so concrete. Try a theoretical concept. How would you explain the unexplainable?”
Zahir accepted the rapid change in topic. After so many months, such a small thing barely warranted a second thought. “Is nothing unexplainable, with enough time?”
“Explain to me Gary’s joke last night. The terrible one.”
Zahir winced. That had been a particularly horrid joke with numerous terrible puns that should never have been contemplated, let alone mashed together. “I can’t,” he admitted.
Jonathan nodded sagely. “Of course not. How would you explain what you feel when you’re tilting, when the horse and you are connected, when you lean forward and extend your arm and lance as one and make one perfect contact...”
Zahir blinked; those words had been oddly hypnotic, especially coming from Jonathan. “It would be difficult, but I think I could put it into words.”
“To someone afraid of horses? To someone who has never seen a horse or a lance?”
The squire shook his head. “That wouldn’t be easy. I might could, but I could never impart the true feeling to someone incapable of experiencing it.”
“And so we make progress, my young squire.” Jonathan folded his hands on one leg and grinned happily. “Admitting your ignorance is the first step towards knowledge.”
“You could also try teaching for a change,” Zahir muttered. “That might work; it’d at least be different.”
“And here lies the root of your problem.” Jon sighed. “You are like a young boy who first discovers the magic of breasts. Fascinated, you stare at them, obsess over them. You could try to court and woo a lady to feel them, but you’re too impatient. That takes too much time and doesn’t guarantee success, or perhaps too much success. Instead,” he grabbed one of Zahir’s hands and pressed it to his chest, “you reach out and grab any passing breasts in the hope that they’ll fulfill your need.”
Jonathan leaned closer to Zahir and whispered in his ear. “I’m trying to wake up your sleeping mind, squire. You need to stop touching my tits.”
QC by: inthefire
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 399
Pairing: Jon/Zahir
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Zahir has an odd lesson. Rating for light lewd language. With apologies to Pat and his amazing witty writing, I am forced to admit that the brilliance of the last line is not mine, merely his with a few slight alterations. The paragraph before is also based off one in The Wise Man’s Fear, though heavily changed.
Previous Chapter Chapter Eleven
“There are many mysteries in the world, squire. Name one.”
Zahir bit back his first reaction - how a crazy man managed to become both Voice and King - and thought for a second. “The existence of immortals.”
Jonathan shook his head and perched himself on the table Zahir was using for his books. “Nothing so concrete. Try a theoretical concept. How would you explain the unexplainable?”
Zahir accepted the rapid change in topic. After so many months, such a small thing barely warranted a second thought. “Is nothing unexplainable, with enough time?”
“Explain to me Gary’s joke last night. The terrible one.”
Zahir winced. That had been a particularly horrid joke with numerous terrible puns that should never have been contemplated, let alone mashed together. “I can’t,” he admitted.
Jonathan nodded sagely. “Of course not. How would you explain what you feel when you’re tilting, when the horse and you are connected, when you lean forward and extend your arm and lance as one and make one perfect contact...”
Zahir blinked; those words had been oddly hypnotic, especially coming from Jonathan. “It would be difficult, but I think I could put it into words.”
“To someone afraid of horses? To someone who has never seen a horse or a lance?”
The squire shook his head. “That wouldn’t be easy. I might could, but I could never impart the true feeling to someone incapable of experiencing it.”
“And so we make progress, my young squire.” Jonathan folded his hands on one leg and grinned happily. “Admitting your ignorance is the first step towards knowledge.”
“You could also try teaching for a change,” Zahir muttered. “That might work; it’d at least be different.”
“And here lies the root of your problem.” Jon sighed. “You are like a young boy who first discovers the magic of breasts. Fascinated, you stare at them, obsess over them. You could try to court and woo a lady to feel them, but you’re too impatient. That takes too much time and doesn’t guarantee success, or perhaps too much success. Instead,” he grabbed one of Zahir’s hands and pressed it to his chest, “you reach out and grab any passing breasts in the hope that they’ll fulfill your need.”
Jonathan leaned closer to Zahir and whispered in his ear. “I’m trying to wake up your sleeping mind, squire. You need to stop touching my tits.”
QC by: inthefire